■t 


I  iji'.i  Mtvitmmtpti0m>$0(>miil»tl!)fm>''lM'>>>'^ 


i»>|ii^iilpWi|iii^iiiiniiiimiliii|MMiiiliMiiiTiiiii^i>««ilw«iwmiiBi;wH<^i 


mil  ibniiii!  lun'mii  imM^iii mi, uiiiiii.iiiiiiii 


T3TT  /^' 

PROGRE 


Cibrarj?  of t:he  'theological  ^tminary 

PRINCETON    .   NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

The  estate  of 
The  Rev.  Walter  Lowrie 
Class  of  1893 

Folio  PR  3330. A2  R4 
Bunyan,  John 
Pilgrim's  Progress 


PORTRAIT  OF  BUNYAN. 
(From  the  Statue  at  Bedford,  by  Sir  Edgar  Boehm.) 


THE 

PILGRIM'S 
PROGRESS 


MAR    5 


^^/:.^L 


THE  DE  VINNE  PRESS,  NEW  YORK. 


FOREWORDS, 


BY  THE  REV.  H.   R.   HAWEIS. 


EXT  to  the  Bible,  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  is  prob- 
ably the  book  which  has  exercised  more  influence 
over  the  Religion  of  England  than  any  other. 

It   did    for   Protestantism  what    Dante   did   for 
Roman  Catholicism  —  whilst  exposing  sometimes 
naively  its  weak  points,  it  affirmed  its  doctrines, 
and  popularized  their  application  to  current  life. 
It  supplied  what  Mikon's  "  Paradise  Lost "  failed  to  give  —  some 
account  of  the  ethics  of  the  soul. 

From  Mikon  we  get  our  plan  of  salvation,  but  from  Bunyan  we  get 
our  conceptions  of  morakty  and  our  theory  of  spiritual  development. 

Perhaps  few  of  those  many  who  bekeve  that  the  Bible  is  their  sole 
spiritual  guide  realize  the  extent  to  which  they  sec  the  Old  Testament 
through  Milton's  eyes,  and  bekeve  in  the  Gospel  according  to  Bunyan. 
There  is  yet  another  parallel.  Bunyan  supplied  that  imaginative 
touch  and  that  glow  of  pictorial  sentiment  without  which  no  religious 
message  seems  to  win  the  masses. 

He  did  with  his  "  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  —  for  a  somewhat  arid  and 
stern  Evangelicalism  which  repudiated  the  saintly  legends  and  the 
material  splendors  of  Rome  —  what  Keble,  with  his  "  Christian 
Year,"  did  for  the  dry  bones  of  Angkcanism. 

Keble  made  Anglicanism  poetical.  Bunyan  made  Evangelicalism 
romantic. 


A  greater  than  Bunyan  or  Keble  adopted  a  similar  method,  when, 
as  we  read,  "  Without  a  parable  He  taught  not  the  people."  The  ex- 
traordinary popularity  of  Bunyan's  great  book,  one  hundred  thousand 
copies  of  which  were  circulated  in  his  own  lifetime,  is  not  far  to  seek. 
He  embodied  his  age  —  not  its  secular,  but  its  religious  side.  No  man 
could  have  been  less  influenced  by  the  decapitation  of  Charles  I,  the 
accession  of  Cromwell,  the  restoration  of  that  mundane  merry  mon- 
arch, Charles  11.  He  lived  through  all  these,  in  and  out  of  prison, 
married  and  single,  with  his  finger  ever  on  the  religious  pulse  of  Eng- 
land ;  he  was  as  little  disturbed  by  wars  and  rumors  of  wars,  political 
cabals  and  commercial  bubbles,  as  were  the  great  violin-makers  of 
Brescia  and  Cremona  by  the  political  disturbances  and  bloody 
squabbles  of  the  small  Italian  princelets  of  their  day. 

But  in  providing  what  the  people  really  wanted,  Bunyan  was  a 
master.  They  wanted  the  Bible ;  Bunyan  gave  it  them.  They  felt 
its  power ;  Bunyan  showed  them  how  to  apply  it.  They  kindled  to 
its  divine  words,  which  they  only  half  understood ;  Bunyan  explained 
them.  They  needed,  above  all  things,  an  infallible  Book  to  replace  the 
infallible  Pope,  whom  they  had  knocked  down.  Bunyan  not  only  told 
them  that  they  might  exchange  the  fallibility  of  men  for  the  infallibility 
of  God,  but  he  provided  for  them  such  a  battery  of  texts  fitting  every 
conceivable  emergency  and  case  of  conscience  that  his  New  Bible 
Christian  ceased  to  miss  all  those  props  of  life  and  aids  to  devotion 
so  skilfully  devised  for  her  children  by  the  genius  and  varied  mechan- 
ism of  the  Roman  Church.  And  they  got  it  all  without  the  tyranny 
of  Rome. 

The  impression  a  man  of  genius  makes  upon  his  age  is  in  direct 
proportion  to  his  intensity.  The  saints  were  vast  accumulators  of 
spiritual  life.  They  were  mighty  reservoirs  from  which  the  people 
drank  and  went  on  their  way  rejoicing. 

Emerson  says  the  difference  between  great  men  and  others  is 
that  there  are  more  of  them:  they  are  many  men  rolled  into  one. 
They  are  macrocosms.  That  was  true  of  Bunyan.  Some  men  have 
some  religious  experience.  Bunyan  seems  to  have  had  all  the  spiritual 
experiences  that  could  be  had.  There  is  no  state,  from  blasphemy  to 
ecstasy,  which  he  had  not  sounded  to  its  depths.  Every  event  of  his 
life,  and  every  thought  and  sentiment  came  to  him  as  so  much  teach- 


ing  and  discipline.  What  attracts  us  to  him  most  is  not  the  soundness 
of  his  judgment,  nor  his  learning.  The  intellectual  propositions 
which  commended  themselves  to  him  seem  to  us  often  unreasonable, 
and  his  biblical  learning,  beyond  a  marvelous  acquaintance  with  the 
letter  of  the  Bible,  is  almost  ml.  He  reminds  us  a  little  sometimes 
of  the  unlettered  gospeler  addressing  his  audience  on  the  uselessness  of 
all  human  learning  and  reasoning,  when  you  might  have  the  Word 
of  God  Himself  to  enlighten  you. 

"  What,  my  brethren,"  he  exclaimed,  "  is  the  use  of  it  all  ?  Did 
Paul  know  Greek  ?  " 

Had  Bunyan  known  a  little  more  Greek  it  would  have  done  him 
no  harm ;  and  as  to  the  comparative  importance  of  Bible  texts,  why,  it 
never  occurred  to  him  that  a  text  was  good  for  anything  but  edifica- 
tion, or  that  one  text  was  not  as  good  as  another,  if  only  it  fitted  an 
occasion.  The  Song  of  Solomon,  or  the  Gospel  of  John,  'tis  all  one  to 
good  Bunyan.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  idolatry  of  the  Bible.  It 
was  the  vice  of  his  time,  and  to  this  day  the  Bible  Christian  suffers 
as  Bunyan  suffered  (and  the  Church  suffers  too)  from  the  defects  of 
his  qualities. 

But  his  ingenuity  is  often  marvellous,  and  one  great  source  of  his 
power  is  the  often  felicitous  and  sometimes  fascinating  use  which  he 
makes  of  texts. 

"  It  was  builded,"  he  says  of  the  Celestial  City,  "  of  Pearls  and  pre- 
cious Stones,  ...  so  that  by  reason  of  the  natural  glory  of  the  City, 
and  the  reflection  of  the  Sun-beams  upon  it.  Christian,  with  desire  fell 
sick.  Hopeful  also  had  a  fit  or  two  of  the  same  Disease.  Wherefore 
here  they  lay  by  it  a  while,  crying  out  because  of  their  pangs,  //  you 
see  my  Belo'bed,  tell  him  that  I  am  sick  of  love. ' '  This  is  as  truly 
poetic  as  it  is  undoubtedly  quaint. 

Our  "  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  is  not  only  enlivened  by  conversations 
full  of  the  deepest  and  surest  spiritual  instincts,  so  that  it  is  a  veritable 
manual  of  conscience  cases,  but  it  has  what  is  so  often  wanting  in 
persons  of  Bunyan's  type  of  mind,  the  bull's-eye  of  wit,  which  is  un- 
expectedly turned  on  to  such  persons  as  may  be  convicted  of  absurdity 
when  they  cannot  be  convinced  of  sin.  The  exposure  of  Mr.  Talka- 
tive, who  would  chatter  for  any  length  of  time  about  anything  plau- 
sibly enough,  but  whose  talk  ended  in  smoke,  or  of  Mr.  By-ends,  who 


was  not  to  be  condemned,  according  to  himself,  as  a  time  server  be- 
jel cause  his  opinions  always  had  the  peculiarity  of  jumping  with  the 
times,  or  of  Mr.  Money-love,  who  found  it  possible  to  justify  the 
morality  of  any  action  which  brought  him  cash,  are  delightful  cases 
in  point. 

His  names  alone  are  of  quite  monumental  significance  and  sugges- 
tiveness.  The  jury  in  Vanity  Fair,  who  tried  Pilgrim  and  his  friends, 
and  consisted,  amongst  others,  of  Mr.  Blind-man,  Mr.  No-good,  Mr. 
Love-lust,  Mr.  Live-loose,  and  Mr.  Hate-light,  act  and  speak  with 
delicious  appropriateness. 

"  Away  with  such  a  fellow,"  "  A  sorry  scrub,"  "  My  heart  riseth 
against  him,"  "  Hanging  is  too  good  for  him ! "  etc.  Or  consider  the 
exquisite  feeling  which  inspired  Bunyan  with  such  names  as  Great- 
heart,  Hopeful,  Faithful,  Evangelist,  or  such  as  the  Delectable  Moun- 
tains, the  Celestial  City,  and  the  King's  Highway,  and  many  more, 
which  have  become  part  of  almost  every  Christian's  imaginative  outfit, 
as  he  follows  in  the  footsteps  of  the  great  Pilgrim. 

It  is  not  necessary  here  to  discuss  Bunyan's  theology.  It  was 
neither  better  nor  worse  than  that  of  his  age.  The  fires  of  hell,  the 
forensic  view  of  the  Atonement,  the  material  splendors  of  Heaven, 
his  excessive  reverence  for  the  letter  of  the  Book,  belong  rather  to  the 
form  than  to  the  essence  of  his  doctrine,  the  center  of  which  will 
always  remain  glowing  with  the  love  of  God,  bright  with  the  disci- 
pline of  the  Soul,  and  radiating  the  enthusiasm  of  Humanity.  These 
are  the  things  unseen  and  eternal,  which,  when  the  Pilgrim  awakes, 
he  will  surely  find  to  have  been,  after  all,  no  dream. 


>^ 


V3 


,^i 


i^l 


^^< 


'C^\t 


\\> 


^■ 


re; 


^^ 


X 


^t, 


%. 


iQ^i 


iG^( 


&t) 


ly: 


C^ 


THE 


AUTHOR^S    APOLOGY 


FOR  HIS  BOOK. 


<o^y 


^^ 


HEN  at  the  first  I  took  my  Pen  in  hand, 
Thus  for  to  write ;  I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  Book 
In  such  a  mode ;  Nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another,  which  when  almost  done, 
Before  I  was  aware,  I  this  begun. 

And  thus  it  was :  I  writing  of  the  Way 


And  Race  of  Saints,  in  this  our  Gospel-Day, 

Fell  suddenly  into  an  Allegory 

About  their  Journey,  and  the  way  to  Glory, 

In  more  than  twenty  things,  which  I  set  down ; 

This  done,  I  twenty  more  had  in  my  Crown, 

And  they  again  began  to  multiply. 

Like  sparks  that  from  the  coals  of  fire  do  fly. 

Nay  then,  thought  I,  if  that  you  breed  so  fast, 

I'll  put  you  by  yourselves,  lest  you  at  last 

Should  prove  ad  infinitum,  and  eat  out 

The  Book  that  I  already  am  about. 

Well,  so  I  did ;  but  yet  I  did  not  think 
To  show  to  all  the  World  my  Pen  and  Ink 


J 


U<^(S 


;ji 


rvS' 


®o'.«o 


OOo 


®, 


In  such  a  mode ;  I  only  thought  to  make 
I  knew  not  what :  nor  did  I  undertake 
Thereby  to  please  my  Neighbor ;  no  not  I ; 
And  did  it  mine  own  self  to  gratify. 

Neither  did  I  but  vacant  seasons  spend 
In  this  my  Scribble ;  nor  did  I  intend 
But  to  divert  myself  in  doing  this, 
From  worser  thoughts,  which  make  me  do  amiss. 

Thus  I  set  Pen  to  Paper  with  delight. 
And  quickly  had  my  thoughts  in  black  and  white. 
For  having  now  my  Method  by  the  end, 
Still  as  I  pull'd,  it  came ;  and  so  I  penn'd 
It  down ;  until  at  last  it  came  to  be. 
For  length  and  breadth  the  bigness  which  you  see. 

Well,  when  I  had  thus  put  mine  ends  together, 
I  shew'd  them  others,  that  I  might  see  whether 
They  would  condemn  them,  or  them  justify : 
And  some  said,  let  them  live ;  some,  let  them  die. 
Some  said, John,  print  it;  others  said.  Not  so: 
Some  said,  It  might  do  good ;  others  said,  No. 

Now  was  I  in  a  strait,  and  did  not  see 
Which  was  the  best  thing  to  be  done  by  me : 
At  last  I  thought.  Since  you  are  thus  divided, 
I  print  it  will ;  and  so  the  case  decided. 

For,  thought  I,  Some,  I  see,  would  have  it  done. 
Though  others  in  that  Channel  do  not  run ; 
To  prove  then  who  advised  for  the  best, 
Thus  I  thought  fit  to  put  it  to  the  test. 

I  further  thought,  if  now  I  did  deny 
Those  that  would  have  it  thus,  to  gratify, 
I  did  not  know  but  hinder  them  I  might 
Of  that  which  would  to  them  be  great  delight. 

For  those  which  were  not  for  its  coming  forth, 
I  said  to  them.  Offend  you  I  am  loth ; 
Yet  since  your  Brethren  pleased  with  it  be. 
Forbear  to  judge,  till  you  do  further  sec. 

If  that  thou  wilt  not  read,  let  it  alone; 
Some  love  the  meat,  some  love  to  pick  the  bone : 


•  O  o©' 


f®^ 


<g> 


®, 


\^i 


o  •  o 


'^®. 

"®*®, 


,®: 


\^ 


Yea,  that  I  might  them  better  palliate, 
I  did  too  with  them  thus  expostulate. 

May  I  not  write  in  such  a  stile  as  this  ? 
In  such  a  method  too,  and  yet  not  miss 
Mine  end,  thy  good  ?  why  may  it  not  be  done  ? 
Dark  Clouds  bring  Waters,  when  the  bright  bring  none. 
Yea,  dark,  or  bright,  if  they  their  Silver  drops 
Cause  to  descend,  the  Earth,  by  yielding  Crops, 
Gives  praise  to  both,  and  carpeth  not  at  either. 
But  treasures  up  the  Fruit  they  yield  together : 
Yea,  so  commixes  both,  that  in  her  Fruit 
None  can  distinguish  this  from  that,  they  suit 
Her  well,  when  hungry :  but  if  she  be  full. 
She  spues  out  both,  and  makes  their  blessings  null. 

You  see  the  ways  the  Fisherman  doth  take 
To  catch  the  Fish ;  what  Engins  doth  he  make  ? 
Behold  how  he  ingageth  all  his  Wits, 
Also  his  Snares,  Lines,  Angles,  Hooks  and  Nets. 
Yet  Fish  there  be,  that  neither  Hook,  nor  Line, 
Nor  Snare,  nor  Net,  nor  Engine  can  make  thine ; 
They  must  be  grop't  for,  and  be  tickled  too. 
Or  they  will  not  be  catcht,  what  e're  you  do. 

How  doth  the  Fowler  seek  to  catch  his  Game, 
By  divers  means,  all  which  one  cannot  name  ? 
His  Gun,  his  Nets,  his  Limetwigs,  light,  and  bell : 
He  creeps,  he  goes,  he  stands ;  yea  who  can  tell 
Of  all  his  postures.  Yet  there's  none  of  these 
Will  make  him  master  of  what  Fowls  he  please. 
Yea,  he  must  Pipe,  and  Whistle  to  catch  this ; 
Yet  if  he  does  so,  that  Bird  he  will  miss. 

If  that  a  Pearl  may  in  a  Toads-head  dwell, 
And  may  be  found  too  in  an  Oystershell ; 
If  things  that  promise  nothing,  do  contain 
What  better  is  than  Gold ;  who  will  disdain, 
(That  have  an  inkling  of  it,)  there  to  look. 
That  they  may  find  it.     Now  my  little  Book, 
(The'  void  of  all  those  paintings  that  may  make 
It  with  this  or  the  other  Man  to  take.) 


S(s)( 


/ .  0  V  o 


But  must  I  needs  want  solidness,  because 
By  Metaphors  I  speak ;  Was  not  Gods  Laws, 
His  Gospel-Laws,  in  older  time  held  forth 
By  Types,  Shadows  and  Metaphors  ?     Yet  loth 
Will  any  sober  man  be  to  find  fault 
With  them,  lest  he  be  found  for  to  assault 
The  highest  Wisdom.    No,  he  rather  stoops. 
And  seeks  to  find  out  what  by  pins  and  loops, 
By  Calves,  and  Sheep,  by  Heifers,  and  by  Rams ; 
By  Birds,  and  Herbs  and  by  the  blood  of  Lambs, 
God  speaketh  to  him.     And  happy  is  he 
That  finds  the  light,  and  grace  that  in  them  be. 

Be  not  too  forward  therefore  to  conclude, 
That  I  want  solidness,  that  I  am  rude : 
All  things  solid  in  shew,  not  solid  be ; 
All  things  in  parables  despise  not  we. 
Lest  things  most  hurtful  lightly  we  receive. 
And  things  that  good  are,  of  our  souls  bereave. 

My  dark  and  cloudy  words  they  do  but  hold 
The  Truth,  as  Cabinets  inclose  the  Gold. 

The  Prophets  used  much  by  Metaphors 
To  set  forth  Truth ;  Yea,  who  so  considers 
Christ,  his  Apostles  too,  shall  plainly  see. 
That  Truths  to  this  day  in  such  Mantles  be. 

Am  I  afraid  to  say  that  holy  Writ, 
Which  for  its  Stile,  and  Phrase  puts  down  all  Wit, 
Is  every  where  so  full  of  all  these  things, 
(Dark  Figures,  Allegories,)  yet  there  springs 
From  that  same  Book  that  lustre,  and  those  rays 
Of  light,  that  turns  our  darkest  nights  to  days. 

Come,  let  my  Carper  to  his  Life  now  look. 
And  find  There  darker  lines  than  in  my  Book 
He  findeth  any.     Yea,  and  let  him  know. 
That  in  his  best  things  there  are  worse  lines  too. 

May  we  but  stand  before  impartial  men. 
To  his  poor  One,  I  durst  adventure  Ten, 


rM 


That  they  will  take  my  meaning  in  these  lines 
Far  better  than  his  Lies  in  Silver  Shrines. 
Come,  Truth,  although  in  Swadling-clouts,  I  find 
Informs  the  Judgment,  rectifies  the  Mind, 
Pleases  the  Understanding,  makes  the  Will 
Submit ;  the  Memory  too  it  doth  fill 
With  what  doth  our  Imagination  please ; 
Likewise,  it  tends  our  troubles  to  appease. 

Sound  words  I  know  Timothy  is  to  use, 
And  old  Wives  Fables  he  is  to  refuse ; 
But  yet  grave  Paul,  him  no  where  doth  forbid 
The  use  of  Parables ;  in  which  lay  hid 
That  Gold,  those  Pearls,  and  precious  stones  that  were 
Worth  digging  for ;  and  that  with  greatest  care. 

Let  me  add  one  word  more,  O  man  of  God  1 
Art  thou  offended  ?  dost  thou  wish  I  had 
Put  forth  my  matter  in  another  dress. 
Or  that  I  had  in  things  been  more  express  ? 
Three  things  let  me  propound,  then  I  submit 
To  those  that  are  my  betters,  as  is  fit. 

\.  I  find  not  that  I  am  denied  the  use 
Of  this  my  method,  so  I  no  abuse 
Put  on  the  Words,  Things,  Readers,  or  be  rude 
In  handling  Figure,  or  Similitude, 
In  application ;  but,  all  that  I  may, 
Seek  the  advance  of  Truth,  this  or  that  way : 
Denied,  did  I  say  ?    Nay,  I  have  leave, 
(Example  too,  and  that  from  them  that  have 
God  better  pleased  by  their  words  or  ways, 
Than  any  man  that  breatheth  now  a-days,) 
Thus  to  express  my  mind,  thus  to  declare 
Things  unto  thee,  that  excellentest  are. 

2.  I  find  that  men  (as  high  as  Trees )  will  write 
Dialogue- wise ;  yet  no  man  doth  them  slight 
For  writing  so :  Indeed  if  they  abuse 
Truth,  cursed  be  they,  and,  the  craft  they  use 


r1\ 


ri 


Ji 


And  now,  before  I  do  put  up  my  Pen, 

I'll  shew  the  profit  of  my  Book,  and  then 

Commit  both  thee,  and  it  unto  that  hand 

That  pulls  the  strong  down,  and  makes  weak  ones  stand. 

This  Book  it  chalketh  out  before  thine  eyes 
The  man  that  seeks  the  everlasting  Prize : 
It  shews  you  whence  he  comes,  whither  he  goes, 
What  he  leaves  undone ;  also  what  he  does : 
It  also  shews  you  how  he  runs  and  runs, 
Till  he  unto  the  Gate  of  Glory  comes. 

It  shews  too,  who  sets  out  for  life  amain, 
As  if  the  lasting  Crown  they  would  attain ; 
Here  also  you  may  see  the  reason  why 
They  lose  their  labour,  and  like  Fools  do  die. 

This  Book  will  make  a  Traveller  of  thee. 
If  by  its  Counsel  thou  wilt  ruled  be ; 
It  will  direct  thee  to  the  Holy  Land, 
If  thou  wilt  its  Directions  understand : 
Yea,  it  will  make  the  slothful,  active  be ; 
The  Blind  also,  delightful  things  to  see. 

Art  thou  for  something  rare,  and  profitable  ? 
Wouldest  thou  see  a  Truth  within  a  Fable  ? 
Art  thou  forgetful  ?  wouldest  thou  remember 
From  Ne'w-year' s-day  to  the  last  of  December  ? 
Then  read  my  fancies,  they  will  stick  like  Burs, 
And  may  be  to  the  Helpless,  Comforters. 

This  Book  is  writ  in  such  a  Dialect, 
As  may  the  minds  of  listless  men  affect : 
It  seems  a  Novelty,  and  yet  contains 
Nothing  but  sound,  and  honest  Gospel-strains. 

Would'st  thou  divert  thyself  from  Melancholy  ? 
Would'st  thou  be  pleasant,  yet  be  far  from  folly  ? 
Would'st  thou  read  Riddles,  &  their  Explanation  ? 
Or  else  be  drowned  in  thy  Contemplation  ? 
Dost  thou  love  picking  meat  ?     Or  wouldst  thou  see 
A  man  i'  th  Clouds,  and  hear  him  speak  to  thee  ? 


IT 


I  fear  that  this  burden  that  is  upon  my  back,  will  sink  me  lower  than  the  Grave. 


tress ;  but  he  could  not  be  silent  long,  because  that  his  trouble  in- 
creased: wherefore  at  length  he  brake  his  mind  to  his  Wife  and 
Children ;  and  thus  he  began  to  talk  to  them,  O  my  dear  Wife,  said 
he,  and  you  the  Children  of  my  boivels,  I  your  dear  friend,  am  in  my- 
self undone,  by  reason  of  a  burden  that  lieth  hard  upon  me :  more- 
over, I  am  for  certain  informed  that  this  our  City  ivill  be  burned  ivith 
fire  from  Heaven,  in  ivhich  fearful  overthrow,  both  myself,  with 
thee,  my  Wife,  and  you  my  siveet  babes,  shall  miserably  come  to 
except  (the  ivhich,  yet  I  see  not)  some  ivay  of  escape  can  be 


rum, 


found,  'whereby  ive  may  be  delivered.  At  this  his  Relations  were 
sore  amazed;  not  for  that  they  believed  that  what  he  had  said  to 
them  was  true,  but  because  they  thought  that  some  frenzy  distemper 
had  got  into  his  head :  therefore,  it  drawing  towards  night,  and  they 
hoping  that  sleep  might  settle  his  brains,  with  all  haste  they  got  him 
to  bed ;  but  the  night  was  as  troublesome  to  him  as  the  day :  where- 
fore instead  of  sleep- 
ing, he  spent  it  in 
sighs  and  tears.  So 
when  the  morning 
was  come,  they 
would  know  how 
he  did;  he  told 
them,  worse  and 
worse.  He  also  set 
to  talking  to  them 
again,  but  they  be- 
gan to  be  hardened; 
they  also  thought 
to  drive  away  his 
distemper  by  harsh 
and  surly  carriages 
to  him :  sometimes 
they  would  deride, 
sometimes  they 
would    chide,  and 


sometimes  they 
would  quite  neglect 
him:  wherefore  he 
began  to  retire  him- 
self to  his  Chamber 
to  pray  for,  and  pity 
them ;  and  also  to 
condolehisown  mis- 
ery :  he  would  also 
walk  solitarily  in  the 
Fields,  sometimes 
reading,  and  some- 
times praying :  and 
thus  for  some  days 
he  spent  his  time. 

Now,  I  saw  upon 
a  time,  when  he  was 
walking  in  the 
Fields,  that  he  was 
(as  he  was  wont) 
reading  in  his  Book,  and  greatly  distressed  in  his  mind;  and  as  he  read, 
he  burst  out,  as  he  had  done  before,  crying.  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ? 

I  saw  also  that  he  looked  this  way,  and  that  way,  as  if  he  would 
run ;  yet  he  stood  still,  because  as  I  perceived  he  could  not  tell  which 
way  to  go.  I  looked  then,  and  saw  a  Man  named  Evangelist  com- 
ing to  him,  and  asked.  Wherefore  doest  thou  cry  ?  He  answered,  Sir, 
I  perceive,  by  the  Book  in  my  hand,  that  I  am  condemned  to  die,  and 
after  that  to  come  to  Judgement ;  and  I  find  that  I  am  not  willing  to 
do  the  first,  nor  able  to  do  the  second. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  Why  not  willing  to  die  ?  since  this  life  is 
attended  with  so  many  evils?  The  Man  answered.  Because  I  fear 
that  this  burden  that  is  upon  my  back,  will  sink  me  lower  than  the 
Grave ;  and  I  shall  fall  into  Tophet.  And  Sir,  if  I  be  not  fit  to  go  to 
Prison,  I  am  not  fit  (I  am  sure)  to  go  to  Judgement,  and  from  thence 
to  Execution ;  and  the  thoughts  of  these  things  make  me  cry. 


Then  said  Evangelist,  ..."  Do  you  see  yonder  Wicket-gate  ?  " 


r  ^W 


KM 


Then  said  Evangelist,  If  this  be  thy  condition,  why  standest  thou 
still  ?  He  answered,  Because  I  know  not  whither  to  go.  Then  he 
gave  him  a  Parchment  Roll,  and  there  was  written  within,  Fly  from 
the  Hvrath  to  come. 

The  Man  therefore  read  it,  and  looking  upon  Evangelist  very  care- 
fully ;  said.  Whither  must  I  fly  ?  Then  said  Evangelist,  pointing  with 
his  finger  over  a  very  wide  Field,  Do  you  see  yonder  Wicket-gate  ? 
The  Man  said.  No.  Then  said  the  other.  Do  you  see  yonder  shining 
light  ?  He  said,  I  think  I  do.  Then  said  Evangelist,  Keep  that  light 
in  your  eye,  and  go  up  directly  thereto,  so  shaft  thou  see  the  Gate ;  at 
which  when  thou  knockest,  it  shall  be  told  thee  what  thou  shalt  do. 

So  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  the  Man  began  to  run ;  now  he  had 
not  run  far  from  his  own  door,  but  his  Wife  and  Children  perceiving 
it,  began  to  cry  after  him  to  return:  but  the  Man  put  his  fingers  in  his 
Ears,  and  ran  on  crying.  Life,  Life,  Eternal  Life :  so  he  looked  not  be- 
hind him,  but  fled  towards  the  middle  of  the  Plain. 

The  Neighbors  also  came  out  to  see  him  run,  and  as  he  ran,  some 
mocked,  others  threatned ;  and  some  cried  after  him  to  return.  And 
among  those  that  did  so,  there  were  two  that  were  resolved  to  fetch 
him  back  by  force :  the  name  of  the  one  was  Obstinate,  and  the  name 
of  the  other  Pliable.  Now  by  this  time  the  Man  was  got  a  good  dis- 
tance from  them;  But  however  they  were  resolved  to  pursue  him; 
which  they  did,  and  in  a  little  time  they  over-took  him.  Then  said 
the  Man,  Neighbors,  Wherefore  are  you  come  ?  They  said.  To  per- 
swade  you  to  go  back  with  us ;  but  he  said.  That  can  by  no  means 
be :  You  dwell,  said  he,  in  the  City  of  Destruction  (the  place  also 
where  I  was  born,)  I  see  it  to  be  so;  and  dying  there,  sooner  or 
later,  you  will  sink  lower  then  the  Grave,  into  a  place  that  burns 
with  Fire  and  Brimstone ;  Be  content  good  Neighbors,  and  go  along 
with  me. 

What !  said  Obstinate,  and  leave  our  Friends,  and  our  comforts 
behind  us  ! 

Yes,  said  Christian,  (for  that  was  his  name)  because  that  all  is  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  a  little  of  that  that  I  am  seeking  to  enjoy, 
and  if  you  will  go  along  with  me,  and  hold  it,  you  shall  fare  as  I  my- 
self ;  for  there  where  I  go,  is  enough,  and  to  spare ;  Come  away,  and 
prove  my  words. 


A 


The  Man  put  his  fingers  in  his  Ears,  and  ran  on  crying,  Life,  Life,  Eternal  Life. 


wHm& 


W 


irKM 


Obs.  What  are  the  things  you  seek,  since  you  leave  all  the  World  to 
find  them  ? 

Chr.  I  seek  an  Inheritance,  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth 
not  aivay  ;  and  it  is  laid  up  in  Heaven,  and  safe  there,  to  be  bestowed 
at  the  time  appointed  on  them  that  diligently  seek  it.  Read  it  so,  if 
you  will,  in  my  Book. 

Obs.  Tush,  said  Obstinate,  away  luith  your  Book;  will  you  go 
back  ivith  us,  or  no  ? 

Chr.  No,  not  I,  said  the  other ;  because  I  have  laid  my  hand  to  the 
Plough. 

Obs.  Come  then.  Neighbor  Pliable,  let  us  turn  again,  and  go  home 
without  him;  There  is  a  Company  of  these  Craz' d-headed  Cox- 
combs, that  ivhen  they  take  a  fancy  by  the  end,  are  iviser  in  their 
oivn  eyes  than  seven  men  that  can  render  a  Reason, 

Pli.  Then  said  Pliable,  Don't  revile ;  if  what  the  good  Christian 
says  is  true,  the  things  he  looks  after,  are  better  than  ours :  my  heart 
inclines  to  go  with  my  Neighbor. 

Obs.  What  I  more  Fools  still  ?  be  ruled  by  me  and  go  back  ;  ivho 
knows  ivhither  such  a  brainsick  fellcnu  ivill  lead  you  ?  Go  back,  go 
back,  and  be  ivise. 

Chr.  Nay,  but  do  thou  come  with  me  Neighbor  Pliable;  there  arc 
such  things  to  be  had  which  I  spoke  of,  and  many  more  Glories  be- 
sides. If  you  believe  not  me,  read  here  in  this  Book;  and  for  the 
trtrth  of  what  is  exprest  therein,  behold  all  is  confirmed  by  the  blood 
of  him  that  made  it. 

Pli,  Well  Neighbor  Obstinate,  {said  Pliable)  /  begin  to  come  to  a 
point ;  I  intend  to  go  along  ivith  this  good  man,  and  to  cast  in  my  lot 
ivith  him :  But  my  good  Companion,  do  you  knoiv  the  ivay  to  this 
desired  place  ? 

Chr.  I  am  directed  by  a  man  whose  name  is  Evangelist,  to  speed 
me  to  a  little  Gate  that  is  before  us,  where  we  shall  receive  instruction 
about  the  way. 

Pli.  Come  then  good  Neighbor,  let  us  be  going.  Then  they  went 
both  together. 

Obs.  And  I  will  go  back  to  my  place,  said  Obstinate.  I  will  be  no 
Companion  of  such  misled  fantastical  Fellows. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  when  Obstinate  was  gone  back, 

6 


rm 


Christian  and  Pliable  went  talking  over  the  Plain  ;  and  thus  they  be- 
gan their  discourse, 

Chr.  Come  Neighbor  Pliable,  how  do  you  do  ?  I  am  glad  you 
are  perswaded  to  go  along  with  me ;  and  had  even  Obstinate  himself 
but  felt  what  I  have  felt  of  the  Powers  and  Terrors  of  what  is  yet 
unseen,  he  would  not  thus  lightly  have  given  us  the  back. 

Pli.  Come  Neighbor  Christian,  since  there  is  none  but  us  tivo  here, 
tell  me  noiv  further  ivhat  the  things  are,  and  hoiv  to  be  enjoyed, 
•whither  ive  are  going  ? 

Chr.  I  can  better  conceive  of  them  with  my  Mind,  than  speak  of 
them  with  my  Tongue :  But  yet  since  you  are  desirous  to  know,  I 
will  read  of  them  in  my  Book. 

Pli.  And  do  you  think  that  the  ivords  of  your  Book  are  certainly 
true? 

Chr.  Yes  verily,  for  it  was  made  by  him  that  cannot  lye. 

Pli.    Well  said ;  'what  things  are  they  ? 

Chr.  There  is  an  endless  Kingdom  to  be  inhabited,  and  everlast- 
ing life  to  be  given 
us,  that  we  may  in- 
habit that  kingdom 
for  ever. 

Pli.  Well  said; 
and  ivhat  else  ? 

Chr.  There  are 
Crowns  of  Glory 
to  be  given  us; 
and  Garments  that 
will  make  us  shine 
like  the  Sun  in 
the  Firmament  of 
Heaven. 

Pli.  This  is  ex- 
cellent; and  ivhat 
else  ? 

Chr.  There 
shall   be    no   more       .,     ,  ^^        ,u  ,    u     ni,  ,■    ,  u  i 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  when  ubstina.te  was  gone  back, 
crying,       nor        SOr-  arrV/an  and  P/(<jWe  went  talking  over  the  Plain. 

7 


I 


fiP:^ 


M 


row; 


For  he  that  is  owner  of  the  place,  will  wipe  all  tears  from 
our  eyes. 

Pli.  And  'what  company  shall  ive  have  there  ? 

Chr.  There  we  shall  be  with  Seraphims,  and  Cherubins,  Creatures 
that  will  dazzle  your  eyes  to  look  on  them :  There  also  you  shall  meet 
with  thousands,  and  ten  thousands  that  have  gone  before  us  to  that 
place ;  none  of  them  are  hurtful,  but  loving,  and  holy :  every  one  walk- 
ing in  the  sight  of  God,  and  standing  in  his  presence  with  acceptance 
for  ever.  In  a  word,  there  we  shall  see  the  Elders  with  their  Golden 
Crowns :  there  we  shall  see  the  Holy  Virgins  with  their  Golden  Harps : 
there  we  shall  see  Men  that  by  the  World  were  cut  in  pieces,  burned 
in  flames,  eaten  of  Beasts,  drowned  in  the  Seas,  for  the  love  that  they 
bare  to  the  Lord  of  the  place,  all  well,  and  cloathed  with  Immortality 
as  with  a  Garment. 

Pli.  The  hearing  of  this  is  enough  to  ravish  ones  heart ;  but  are 
these  things  to  be  enjoyed}     Hoiv  shall  ive  get  to  be  Sharers  hereof} 

Chr.  The  Lord,  the  Governor  of  that  Country,  hath  recorded  that 
in  this  Book :  the  substance  of  which  is.  If  we  be  truly  willing  to  have 
it,  he  will  bestow  it  upon  us  freely. 

Pli.  Well,  my  good  Companion,  glad  am  I  to  hear  of  these  things  : 
Come  on,  let  us  mend  our  pace. 

Chr.  I  cannot  go  so  fast  as  I  would,  by  reason  of  this  burden  that 
is  upon  my  back. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  just  as  they  had  ended  this  talk, 
they  drew  near  to  a  very  Miry  Slough,  that  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
Plain,  and  they  being  heedless,  did  both  fall  suddenly  into  the  bog. 
The  name  of  the  Slough  was  Dispond.  Here  therefore  they  wal- 
lowed for  a  time,  being  grievously  bedaubed  with  the  dirt ;  and  Chris- 
tian, because  of  the  burden  that  was  on  his  back,  began  to  sink  in  the 
Mire. 

Pli.    Then  said  Pliable,  Ah,  Neighbor  Christian,  li>here  are  you  noTV  } 

Chr.  Truly,  said  Christian,  I  do  not  know. 

Pli.  At  that  Pliable  began  to  be  offended ;  and  angerly  said  to  his 
Fellow,  Is  this  the  happiness  you  have  told  me  all  this  Jijhile  of}  If 
ive  have  such  ill  speed  at  our  first  setting  out,  ivhat  may  ive  expect, 
'tivixt  this  and  our  Journeys  end}    May  I  get  oat  again  ivith  my  life. 


ET 
r> 

0 

3 


r> 

o 

c 

O 

•o 

o 

a 

Ok 


m 


<?f 


vi* 


* 


.« 


you  shall  possess  the  brave  Country  alone  for  me.  And  with  that  he 
gave  a  desperate  struggle  or  two,  and  got  out  of  the  Mire,  on  that  side 
of  the  Slough  which  was  next  his  own  House :  so  away  he  went,  and 
Christian  saw  him  no  more. 

Wherefore  Christian  was  left  to  tumble  in  the  Slough  of  Dis- 
pond  alone ;  but  still  he  endeavoured  to  struggle  to  that  side  of  the 
Slough  that  was  still  further  from  his  own  House,  and  next  to  the 
Wicket-gate;  the  which  he  did,  but  could  not  get  out,  because  of 
the  burden  that  was  upon  his  back.  But  I  beheld  in  my  Dream, 
that  a  Man  came  to  him,  whose  name  was  Help,  and  asked  him. 
What  he  did  there  ? 

Chr.  Sir,  said  Christian,  I  was  directed  this  way,  by  a  man  called 
Evangelist ;  who  directed  me  also  to  yonder  Gate,  that  I  might  escape 
the  wrath  to  come :  And  as  I  was  going  thither,  I  fell  in  here. 

Help.   But  ivhy  did  you  not  look  for  the  steps  ? 

Chr.   Fear  followed  me  so  hard,  that  I  fled  the  next  way,  and  fell  in. 

Help.  Then,  said  he.  Give  me  thy  hand  f  So  he  gave  him  his 
hand,  and  he  drew  him  out,  and  set  him  upon  sound  ground,  and  bid 
him  go  on  his  way. 

Then  I  stepped  to  him  that  pluckt  him  out,  and  said.  Sir,  where- 
fore, since  over  this  place  is  the  way  from  the  City  of  Destruction  to 
yonder  Gate,  is  it  that  this  Plat  is  not  mended,  that  poor  travellers 
might  go  thither  with  more  security  ?  And  he  said  unto  me.  This 
Miry  slough  is  such  a  place  as  cannot  be  mended.  It  is  the  descent 
whither  the  scum  and  filth  that  attends  conviction  for  sin  doth  continu- 
ally run,  and  therefore  it  is  called  the  Slough  of  Dispond :  for  still  as 
the  sinner  is  awakened  about  his  lost  condition,  there  ariseth  in  his 
soul  many  fears  and  doubts  and  discouraging  apprehensions,  which 
all  of  them  get  together,  and  settle  in  this  place :  And  this  is  the  reason 
of  the  badness  of  this  ground. 

It  is  not  the  pleasure  of  the  King  that  this  place  should  remain  so 
bad.  His  Laborers  also  have,  by  the  direction  of  His  Majestye's  Sur- 
veyors, been  for  above  this  sixteen  hundred  years  imployed  about  this 
patch  of  ground,  if  perhaps  it  might  have  been  mended :  yea,  and  to 
my  knowledge,  said  he.  Here  hath  been  swallowed  up  at  least  twenty 
million  Cart  Loads ;  yea  millions,  of  wholesome  Instructions,  that  have 
at  all  seasons  been  brought  from  all  places  of  the  Kings  Dominions ; 


IT 


^ 


10 


f«ii^ 


(and  they  that  can  tell,  say,  they  are  the  best  Materials  to  make  good 
ground  of  the  place ;)  if  so  be  it  might  have  been  mended ;  but  it  is  the 
Slough  of  Dispond  still,  and  so  will  be,  when  they  have  done  what 
they  can. 

True,  there  are  by  the  direction  of  the  Lawgiver,  certain  good  and 
substantial  Steps,  placed  even  through  the  very  midst  of  this  Slough  ; 
but  at  such  time  as  this  place  doth  much  spue  out  its  filth,  as  it  doth 
against  change  of  Weather,  these  steps  are  hardly  seen ;  or  if  they  be. 
Men  through  the  dizziness  of  their  heads,  step  besides ;  and  then  they 
are  bemired  to  purpose,  notwithstanding  the  steps  be  there ;  but  the 
ground  is  good  when  they  are  once  got  in  at  the  Gate. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  by  this  time  Pliable  was  got  home 
to  his  House  again.  So  his  Neighbors  came  to  visit  him ;  and  some  of 
them  called  him  wise  Man  for  coming  back ;  and  some  called  him  Fool, 
for  hazarding  himself  with  Christian;  others  again  did  mock  at  his  Cow- 
ardliness ;  saying.  Surely  since  you  began  to  venture,  I  would  not 
have  been  so  base  to  have  given  out  for  a  few  difficulties.  So  Pliable 
sat  sneaking  among  them.  But  at  last  he  got  more  confidence,  and 
then  they  all  turned  their  tales,  and  began  to  deride  poor  Christian  be- 
hind his  back. 

And  thus  much  concerning  Pliable. 

Now  as  Christian  was  walking  solitary  by  himself,  he  espied  one 
afar  off  come  crossing  over  the  field  to  meet  him ;  and  their  hap  was 
to  meet  just  as  they  were  crossing  the  way  of  each  other.  The  Gen- 
tleman's name  was  Mr.  Worldly -Wiseman ;  he  dwelt  in  the  Town 
of  Carnal-Policy,  a  very  great  Town,  and  also  hard  by  from  whence 
Christian  came.  This  man  then  meeting  with  Christian,  and  having 
some  inkling  of  him, —  for  Christian's  setting  forth  from  the  City  of 
Destruction  was  much  noised  abroad,  not  only  in  the  Town  where  he 
dwelt,  but  also  it  began  to  be  the  Town-talk  in  some  other  places. — 
Master  Worldly -Wiseman  therefore,  having  some  guess  of  him,  by 
beholding  his  laborious  going,  by  observing  his  sighs  and  groans, 
and  the  like,  began  thus  to  enter  into  some  talk  with  Christian. 

World.  Hcnv  now,  good  fellow,  whither  away  after  this  bur- 
dened manner? 

Chr.  a  burdened  manner  indeed,  as  ever  I  think  poor  creature  had. 
And  whereas  you  ask  me.  Whither  away,  I  tell  you.  Sir,  I  am  going 


«> 


►5 


^ 


11 


By  this  time  Pliable,  was  got  home  to  his  House  again.    So  his  Neighbours  came  to  visit  him;  and  some  of  them  called 

him  wise  Man  for  coming  back ;  and  some  called  him  Fool. 


o  -.H® 


0« 


(5): 


®^ 


to  yonder  Wicket-gate  before  me ;  for  there,  as  I  am  informed,  I  shall 
be  put  into  a  way  to  be  rid  of  my  heavy  burden. 

World.  Hast  thou  a  Wife  and  Children  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  but  I  am  so  laden  with  this  burden,  that  I  cannot  take 
that  pleasure  in  them  as  formerly :  methinks,  I  am  as  if  I  had  none. 

World.    Witt  thou  hearken  to  me,  if  I  give  thee  counsel? 

Chr.   K  it  be  good,  I  will ;  for  I  stand  in  need  of  good  counsel. 

World.  /  luould  advise  thee  then,  that  thou  'with  all  speed  get 
thyself  rid  of  thy  burden  ;  for  thou  •wilt  never  be  settled  in  thy  mind 
till  then  :  nor  canst  thou  enjoy  the  benefits  of  the  blessing  ivhich  God 
hath  bestoived  upon  thee  till  then, 

Chr.  That  is  that  which  I  seek  for,  even  to  be  rid  of  this  heavy 
burden ;  but  get  it  off  my  self  I  cannot :  nor  is  there  a  man  in  our 
Country  that  can  take  it  off  my  shoulders ;  therefore  am  I  going  this 
way,  as  I  told  you,  that  I  may  be  rid  of  my  burden. 

World.    Who  bid  thee  go  this  ivay  to  be  rid  of  thy  burden  ? 

Chr.  a  man  that  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very  great  and  honorable 
person ;  his  name,  as  I  remember,  is  Evangelist. 

World.  /  beshroiv  him  for  his  counsel ;  there  is  not  a  more  dan- 
gerous and  troublesome  ivay  in  the  ivorld  than  is  that  unto  ivhich  he 
hath  directed  thee ;  and  that  thou  shall  find  if  thou  ivilt  be  ruled  by 
his  counsel.  Thou  hast  met  ivith  something  (a5  /  perceive)  already; 
for  I  see  the  dirt  of  the  Slough  of  Dispond  is  upon  thee;  but  that 
Slough  is  the  beginning  of  the  sorrows  that  do  attend  those  that  go  on 
in  that  ivay.  Hear  me,  I  am  older  than  thou  !  thou  art  like  to  meet 
ivith  in  the  ivay  ivhich  thou  goest,  Wearisomness,  Painfulness,  Hun- 
ger, Perils,  Nakedness,  Sivord,  Lions,  Dragons,  Darkness,  and  in  a 
ivord,  death,  and  ivhat  not  ?  These  things  are  certainly  true,  having 
been  confirmed  by  many  testimonies.  And  ivhy  should  a  man  so  care- 
lessly cast  aivay  himself,  by  giving  heed  to  a  stranger  ? 

Chr.  Why,  Sir,  this  burden  upon  my  back  is  more  terrible  to  me 
than  all  these  things  which  you  have  mentioned :  nay,  methinks  I  care 
not  what  I  meet  with  in  the  way,  so  be  I  can  also  meet  with  deliver- 
ance from  my  burden. 

World,  Hoiv  camest  thou  by  thy  burden  at  first  ? 

Chr.  By  reading  this  Book  in  my  hand. 

World.  /  thought  so ;  and  it  is  happened  unto  thee  as  to  other 
weak  men,  who  meddling  with  things  too  high  for  them,  do  suddenly 


oOO 


^o 


I® 


13 


0--P. 


•®®: 


©. 


<«)\ 


The  Gentleman's  name  was  Mr.  Worldly  -  Wiseman. 

dally,  since  {hadst  thou  but  patience  to  hear  me,)  I  could  direct  thee  to 
the  obtaining  of  'ii>hat  thou  desirest,  ivithout  the  dangers  that  thou  in 
this  ivay  luilt  run  thy  self  into :  yea,  and  the  remedy  is  at  hand.  Be- 
sides, I  iP^ill  add,  that  instead  of  those  dangers,  thou  shalt  meet  ivith 
much  safety,  friendship,  and  content. 

Chr.  Pray,  Sir  open  this  secret  to  me. 

World.  Why  in  yonder  Village,  (the  Village  is  named  Morality) 
there  dl^ells  a  Gentleman,  Ji>hose  name  is  Legality,  a  very  judicious 
man  {and  a  man  of  a  very  good  name)  that  has  skill  to  help  men  off 
liiith  such  burdens  as  thine  are  from  their  shoulders :  yea,  to  my  knoTf- 
ledge  he  hath  done  a  great  deal  of  good  this  ivay  :  Aye,  and  besides,  he 
hath  skill  to  cure  those  that  are  somenvhat  crazed  in  their  ivits  l^ith 
their  burdens.  To  him,  as  I  said,  thou  mayest  go,  and  be  helped  pres- 
ently. His  house  is  not  quite  a  mile  from  this  place  ;  and  if  he  should 
not  be  at  home  himself,  he  hath  a  pretty  young  man  to  his  Son,  ivhose 
name  is  Civility,  that  can  do  it  (to  speak  on)  as  l^ell  as  the  old  Gen- 
tleman himself:  There,  I  say,  thou  mayest  be  eased  of  thy  burden,  and 
if  thou  art  not  minded  to  go  back  to  thy  former  habitation,  as  indeed  I 


14 


f\ 


would  not  ivish  thee,  thou  mayest  send  for  thy  Wife  and  Children  to 
thee  to  this  Village,  'where  there  are  houses  noTi)  stand  empty,  one  of 
ybhich  thou  mayest  have  at  reasonable  rates :  Provision  is  there  also 
cheap  and  good,  and  that  ivhich  will  make  thy  life  the  more  happy, 
is,  to  be  sure  there  thou  shall  live  by  honest  neighbors,  in  credit  and 
1/  y'-.-l-     good  fashion. 

Now  was  Christian  somewhat  at  a  stand,  but  presently  he  con- 
cluded ;  if  this  be  true  which  this  Gentleman  hath  said,  my  wisest 
course  is  to  take  his  advice ;  and  with  that  he  thus  farther  spoke. 

Chr.  Sir,  which  is  my  way  to  this  honest  man's  house  ? 

World.  Do  you  see  yonder  high  hill  ? 

Chr.   Yes,  very  well. 

World.  By  that  Hill  you  must  go,  and  the  first  house  you  come 
at  is  his. 

So  Christian  turned  out  of  his  way  to  go  to  Mr.  Legality's  house 
for  help:  but  behold,  when  he  was  got  now  hard  by  the  Hill,  it 
seemed  so  high,  and  also  that  side  of  it  that  was  next  the  way  side  did 
hang  so  much  over,  that  Christian  was  afraid  to  venture  further,  lest 
the  Hill  should  fall  on  his  head  :  wherefore  there  he  stood  still,  and  he 
wot  not  what  to  do.  Also  his  burden,  noiv,  seemed  heavier  to  him 
than  while  he  was  in  his  way.  There  came  also  flashes  of  fire  out  of 
the  Hill,  that  made  Christian  afraid  that  he  should  be  burned.  Here 
therefore  he  sweat,  and  did  quake  for  fear.  And  now  he  began  to  be 
sorry  that  he  had  taken  Mr.  Worldly -Wisemans  counsel;  and  with 
that  he  saw  Evangelist  coming  to  meet  him;  at  the  sight  also  of 
whom  he  began  to  blush  for  shame.  So  Evangelist  drew  nearer 
and  nearer,  and  coming  up  to  him,  he  looked  upon  him  with  a 
severe  and  dreadful  countenance:  and  thus  began  to  reason  with 
Christian. 

Evan.  What  doest  thou  here  ?  Christian,  said  he  ?  at  which  word 
Christian  knew  not  what  to  answer :  wherefore,  at  present  he  stood 
speechless  before  him.  Then  said  Evangelist  farther,  c/lrt  not  thou 
the  man  that  I  found  crying  without  the  l^alls  of  the  City  of  De- 
struction ? 

Chr.  Yes,  dear  Sir,  I  am  the  man. 

Evan.   Did  not  I  direct  thee  the  way  to  the  little  Wicket-gate  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  dear  Sir,  said  Christian. 


15 


Evan.  Hoti)  is  it  then  that  thou  art  so  quickly  turned  aside  ?  for 
thou  art  no7t>  out  of  the  ti^ay, 

ChR;  I  met  with  a  Gentleman,  so  soon  as  I  had  got  over  the  Slough 
of  Dispond,  who  perswaded  me  that  I  might,  in  the  Villagehdovz  me, 
find  a  man  that  could  take  off  my  burden. 

Evan.    What  "ivas  he  ? 

Chr:  He  looked  like  a  Gentleman,  and  talked  much  to  me,  and  got 
me  at  last  to  yield ;  so  I  came  hither :  but  when  I  beheld  this  Hill,  and 
how  it  hangs  over  the  way,  I  suddenly  made  a  stand,  lest  it  should 
fall  on  my  head. 

Evan.    What  said  that  Gentleman  to  you  ? 

Chr.  Why,  he  asked  me  whither  I  was  going,  and  I  told  him. 

Evan,  c/lnd  what  said  he  then  ? 

Chr.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  a  Family,  and  I  told  him :  but,  said  I,  I 
am  so  loaden  with  the  burden  that  is  on  my  back,  that  I  cannot  take 
pleasure  in  them  as  formerly. 

Evan.   <And  ivhat  said  he  then  ? 

Chr.  He  bid  me  with  speed  get  rid  of  my  burden,  and  I  told  him, 
'twas  ease  that  I  sought :  And  said  I,  I  am  therefore  going  to  yonder 
Gate  to  receive  further  direction  how  I  may  get  to  the  place  of  deliver- 
ance. So  he  said  that  he  would  shew  me  a  better  way,  and  short, 
not  so  attended  with  difficulties,  as  the  way.  Sir,  that  you  set  me : 
which  way,  said  he,  will  direct  you  to  a  Gentleman's  house  that  hath 
skill  to  take  off  these  burdens :  So  I  believed  him,  and  turned  out  of 
that  way  into  this,  if  haply  I  might  be  soon  eased  of  my  burden :  but 
when  I  came  to  this  place,  and  beheld  things  as  they  are,  I  stopped  for 
fear,  (as  I  said)  of  danger :  but  I  now  know  not  what  to  do. 

Evang.  Then  (said  Evangelist)  stand  still  a  little,  that  I  may  sheiv 
thee  the  1i)ords  of  God.  So  he  stood  trembling.  Then  (said  Evan- 
gelist) See  that  ye  refuse  not  him  that  speaketh  ;  for  if  they  escaped 
not  ivho  refused  him  that  spake  on  Earth,  much  more  shall  not  ive 
escape,  if  'ii>e  turn  aiuay  from  him  that  speaketh  from  Heaven.  He 
said  moreover,  Noiv  the  just  shall  lit>e  by  faith;  but  if  any  man 
draivs  back,  my  soul  shall  h^e  no  pleasure  in  him.  He  also  did 
thus  apply  them.  Thou  art  the  man  that  art  running  into  this  misery, 
thou  hast  began  to  reject  the  counsel  of  the  most  high,  and  to  dre^to 
back  thy  foot  from  the  ivay  of  peace,  even  almost  to  the  hazard- 
ing of  thy  perdition. 

16 


m^k 


Then  Christian  fell  down  at  his  foot  as  dead,  crying,  Woe  is  me, 
for  I  am  undone:  at  the  sight  of  which  Evangelist  caught  him 
by  the  right  hand,  saying,  all  manner  of  sin  and  blasphemies  shall 
be  forgiven  unto  men;  be  not  faithless,  but  believing;  then  did 
Christian  again  a  little  revive,  and  stood  up  trembling,  as  at  first, 
before  Evangelist. 

Then  Evangelist  proceeded,  saying,  Gi1>e  more  earnest  heed  to  the 
things  that  I  shall  tell  thee  of.  I  will  now  shew  thee  who  it  was  that 
deluded  thee,  and  who  'twas  also  to  whom  he  sent  thee.  The  man 
that  met  thee,  is  one  Worldly  -  Wiseman,  and  rightly  is  he  so  called ; 
partly,  because  he  savoureth  only  the  Doctrine  of  this  world  (therefore 
he  always  goes  to  the  Town  of  Morality  to  Church)  and  partly  be- 
cause he  loveth  that  Doctrine  best,  for  it  saveth  him  from  the  Cross ; 
and  because  he  is  of  this  carnal  temper,  therefore  he  seeketh  to  prevent 
my  ways,  though  right.  Now  there  are  three  things  in  this  mans 
counsel  that  thou  must  utterly  abhor : 

1 .  His  turning  thee  out  of  the  way. 

2.  His  labouring  to  render  the  Cross  odious  to  thee. 

3.  And  his  setting  thy  feet  in  that  way  that  leadeth  unto  the  admin- 
istration of  Death. 

First,  Thou  must  abhor  his  turning  thee  out  of  the  way ;  yea,  and 
thine  own  consenting  thereto :  because  this  is  to  reject  the  counsel  of 
God,  for  the  sake  of  the  counsel  of  a  Worldly  -  Wiseman.  The  Lord 
says.  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate,  the  gate  to  which  I  sent  thee ; 
for  strait  is  the  gate  that  leadeth  unto  life,  and  fe<iv  there  be  that  find 
it.  From  this  little  wicket-gate,  and  from  the  way  thereto  hath  this 
wicked  man  turned  thee,  to  the  bringing  of  thee  almost  to  destruction ; 
hate  therefore  his  turning  thee  out  of  the  way,  and  abhor  thyself  for 
hearkening  to  him. 

Secondly,  Thou  must  abhor  his  labouring  to  render  the  Cross  odi- 
ous unto  thee ;  for  thou  art  to  prefer  it  before  the  treasures  of  Egypt : 
besides,  the  King  of  Glory  hath  told  thee,  that  he  that  will  save  his  life, 
shall  lose  it :  and  he  that  comes  after  him,  and  hates  not  his  father, 
and  mother,  and  ivife,  and  children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters  ;  yea, 
and  his  oTun  life  also,  he  cannot  be  my  Disciple.  I  say  therefore,  for 
a  man  to  labour  to  perswade  thee,  that  that  shall  be  thy  death,  without 
which  the  truth  hath  said,  thou  canst  not  have  eternal  life,  This  Doc- 
trine thou  must  abhor. 

17 


Thirdly,  Thou  must  hate  his  setting  of  thy  feet  in  the  way  that 
leadeth  to  the  ministration  of  death.  And  for  this  thou  must  consider 
to  whom  he  sent  thee,  and  also  how  unable  that  person  was  to  deliver 
thee  from  thy  burden. 

He  to  whom  thou  wast  sent  for  ease,  being  by  name  Legality,  is 
the  Son  of  the  Bond-woman  which  now  is,  and  is  in  bondage  with 
her  children,  and  is  in  a  mystery  this  Mount  Sinai,  which  thou  hast 
feared  will  fall  on  thy  head.  Now  if  she  with  her  children  are  in 
bondage,  how  canst  thou  expect  by  them  to  be  made  free?  This 
Legality  therefore  is  not  able  to  set  thee  free  from  thy  burden.  No 
man  was  as  yet  ever  rid  of  his  burden  by  him,  no,  nor  ever  is  like  to 
be :  ye  cannot  be  justified  by  the  Works  of  the  Law ;  for  by  the  deeds 
of  the  Law  no  man  living  can  be  rid  of  his  burden:  therefore  Mr. 
Worldly -Wiseman  is  an  alien,  and  Mr.  Legality  a  cheat:  and  for  his 
son  Civility,  notwithstanding  his  simpering  looks,  he  is  but  an  hypo- 
crite, and  cannot  help  thee.  Believe  me,  there  is  nothing  in  all  this 
noise,  that  thou  hast  heard  of  this  sottish  man,  but  a  design  to  beguile 
thee  of  thy  Salvation,  by  turning  thee  from  the  way  in  which  I  had 
set  thee.  After  this  Evangelist  called  aloud  to  the  Heavens  for  confir- 
mation of  what  he  had  said ;  and  with  that  there  came  words  and  fire 
out  of  the  Mountain  under  which  poor  Christian  stood,  that  made  the 
hair  of  his  flesh  stand.  The  words  were  thus  pronounced.  As  many 
as  are  of  the  luorks  of  the  Laiv,  are  under  the  curse  f  for  it  is 
ivritten.  Cursed  is  e'i>ery  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things  'which 
are  Ivritten  in  the  Book  of  the  Laiv  to  do  them. 

Now  Christian  looked  for  nothing  but  death,  and  began  to  cry  out 
lamentably,  even  cursing  the  time  in  which  he  met  with  Mr.  Worldly- 
Wiseman,  still  calling  himself  a  thousand  fools  for  hearkening  to  his 
counsel :  he  also  was  greatly  ashamed  to  think  that  this  Gentleman's 
arguments,  flowing  only  from  the  flesh,  should  have  that  prcvalency 
with  him  to  forsake  the  right  way.  This  done,  he  applied  himself 
again  to  Evangelist  in  words  and  sense  as  follows. 

Chr.  Sir,  what  think  you  ?  is  there  hopes  ?  may  I  now  go  back, 
and  go  up  to  the  Wicket-gate  ?  Shall  I  not  be  abandoned  for  this,  and 
sent  back  from  thence  ashamed  ?  I  am  sorry  I  have  hearkened  to  this 
man's  counsel,  but  may  my  sin  be  forgiven  ? 

EvANG.  Then  said  Evangelist  to  him.  Thy  sin  is  very  great,  for  by 
it  thou  hast  committed  two  evils ;  thou  hast  forsaken  the  way  that  is 


18 


t^ov 


,o  o©' 


r®' 


?0 


0  .-r" 


o».H® 


(<s>l 


0c 


©J 


®^ 


Jft 


And  with  that  there  came  words  and  fire  out  of  the  Mountain  under  which  poor  Christian  stood. 

good,  to  tread  in  forbidden  paths :  yet  will  the  man  of  the  Gate  receive 
thee,  for  he  has  good  will  for  men ;  only,  said  he,  take  heed  that  thou 
turn  not  aside  again,  lest  thou  perish  from  the  way  when  his  wrath  is 
kindled  but  a  little.  Then  did  Christian  address  himself  to  go  back, 
and  Evangelist,  after  he  had  kist  him,  gave  him  one  smile,  and  bid 
him  God  speed :  so  he  went  on  with  haste,  neither  spake  he  to  any 
man  by  the  way;  nor  if  any  man  asked  him,  would  he  vouchsafe 
them  an  answer.  He  went  like  one  that  was  all  the  while  treading 
on  forbidden  ground,  and  could  by  no  means  think  himself  safe,  till 
again  he  was  got  into  the  way  which  he  left  to  follow  Mr.  Worldly- 
Wiseman's  counsel.  So  in  process  of  time.  Christian  got  up  to  the 
Gate.  Now  over  the  Gate  there  was  written.  Knock  and  it  shall 
be  opened  unto  you.  He  knocked  therefore,  more  than  once  or  twice, 
saying, 

May  I  noti)  enter  here  ?  will  he  ivithin 
Open  to  sorry  me,  though  I  have  been 
An  undese/hing  Rebel  ?  then  shall  I 
Not  fail  to  sing  his  lasting  praise  on  high. 

At  last  there  came  a  grave  Person  to  the  Gate,  named  Goodwill,  who 
asked  Who  was  there  ?  and  'ii>hence  he  came?  and  ti}hat  he  tijould 
have  ? 

Chr.  Here  is  a  poor  burdened  sinner.  I  come  from  the  City  of 
Destruction,  but  am  going  to  Mount  Zion,  that  I  may  be  delivered 
from  the  wrath  to  come.    I  would  therefore,  Sir,  since  I  am  informed 


19 


r  'Q*    C 


•®®* 


©:^ 


<a)\^ 


■S^ 


oOO 


I® 


Them  that  are  with  him  shoot  Arrows  at  those  that  come  up 
to  this  Gate. 

Gate,  there  is  erected  a  strong  Castle,  of  which  Beelzebub  is  the 
Captain:  from  thence  both  he,  and  them  that  are  with  him  shoot 
Arrows  at  those  that  come  up  to  this  Gate ;  if  haply  they  may  die 
before  they  can  enter  in.  Then  said  Christian,  I  rejoice  and  tremble. 
So  when  he  was  got  in,  the  Man  of  the  Gate  asked  him,  Who 
directed  him  thither? 

Chr.  Evangelist  bid  me  come  hither  and  knock,  (as  I  did ;)  And  he 
said,  that  you.  Sir,  would  tell  me  what  I  must  do. 

Good  Will.  An  open  Door  is  set  before  thee,  and  no  man  can 
shut  it, 

Chr.   Now  I  begin  to  reap  the  benefits  of  my  hazards. 

Good  Will.   But  hoti)  is  it  that  you  came  alone  ? 

Chr.   Because  none  of  my  Neighbors  saw  their  danger,  as  I  saw  mine. 

Good  Will.  Did  any  of  them  knoti)  of  your  coming  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  my  Wife  and  Children  saw  me  at  the  first,  and  called 
after  me  to  turn  again :  Also  some  of  my  Neighbors  stood  crying,  and 
calling  after  me  to  return ;  but  I  put  my  Fingers  in  my  Ears,  and  so 
came  on  my  way.  .^o 


So,  when  Christian  was  stepping  in,  the  other  gave  him  a  pull. 


Good  Will.  Bat  did  none  of  them  follott)  you,  to  persJi^ade  you  to 
go  back  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  both  Obstinate,  and  Pliable :  But  when  they  saw  that 
they  could  not  prevail,  Obstinate  went  railing  back ;  but  Pliable  came 
with  me  a  little  way. 

Good  Will.  But  ti>hy  did  he  not  come  through  ? 

Chr.  We  indeed  came  both  together,  until  we  came  at  the  Slough 
of  Dispond,  into  the  which  we  also  suddenly  fell.  And  then  was  my 
Neighbor  Pliable  discouraged,  and  would  not  adventure  further. 
Wherefore  getting  out  again,  on  that  side  next  to  his  own  House, 
he  told  me,  I  should  possess  the  brave  Country  alone  for  him :  So 
he  went  his  way,  and  I  came  mine.  He  after  Obstinate,  and  I  to 
this  Gate. 

Good  Will.  Then  said  Good  Will,  Alas  poor  Man,  is  the 
Coelestial  Glory  of  so  small  esteem  with  him,  that  he  counteth  it  not 
worth  running  the  hazards  of  a  few  difficulties  to  obtain  it. 

Chr.  Truly,  said  Christian,  I  have  said  the  truth  of  Pliable,  and  if 
I  should  also  say  the  truth  of  myself,  it  will  appear  there  is  no  betterment 
'twixt  him  and  myself.  'Tis  true,  he  went  back  to  his  own  house, 
but  I  also  turned  aside  to  go  in  the  way  of  death,  being  perswaded 
thereto  by  the  carnal  arguments  of  one  Mr.  Worldly  -  Wiseman. 

Good  Will.  Oh,  did  he  light  upon  you  ?  what,  he  would  have  had 
you  a  sought  for  ease  at  the  hands  of  Mr.  Legality;  they  are  both  of 
them  a  very  cheat :  But  did  you  take  his  counsel  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  as  far  as  I  durst :  I  went  to  find  out  Mr.  Legality,  until 
I  thought  that  the  Mountain  that  stands  by  his  house,  would  have 
fallen  upon  my  head:  wherefore  there  I  was  forced  to  stop. 

Good  Will.  That  Mountain  has  been  the  death  of  many,  and  will 
be  the  death  of  many  more :  'tis  well  you  escaped  being  by  it  dasht  in 
pieces. 

Chr.  Why,  truly  I  do  not  know  what  had  become  of  me  there, 
had  not  Evangelist  happily  met  me  again  as  I  was  musing  in  the 
midst  of  my  dumps :  but  'twas  Gods  mercy  that  he  came  to  me 
again,  for  else  I  had  never  come  hither.  But  now  I  am  come,  such  a 
one  as  I  am,  more  fit  indeed  for  death  by  that  Mountain,  than  thus  to 
stand  talking  with  my  Lord :  But  O,  what  a  favour  is  this  to  me, 
that  yet  I  am  admitted  entrance  here. 


m 


VJm:^(- 


•:i-.V.-- 


m 


Good  Will.  We  make  no  objections  against  any,  notwithstanding 
all  that  they  have  done  before  they  come  hither,  they  in  no  wise  are 
cast  out,  and  therefore,  good  Christian,  come  a  little  way  with  me, 
and  I  will  teach  thee  about  the  way  thou  must  go.  Look  before  thee; 
dost  thou  see  this  narrow  way  ?  THAT  is  the  way  thou  must  go. 
It  was  cast  up  by  the  Patriarchs,  Prophets,  Christ,  and  his  Apostles ; 
and  it  is  as  straight  as  a  Rule  can  make  it :  This  is  the  way  Thou 
must  go. 

Chr.  But  said  Christian,  Is  there  no  turnings  nor  ivindings  by 
'which  a  Stranger  may  lose  the  ivay  ? 

Good  Will,  Yes,  there  are  many  ways  butt  down  upon  this; 
and  they  are  crooked,  and  wide :  But  thus  thou  may'st  distinguish  the 
right  from  the  wrong.  That  only  being  straight  and  narrow. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  That  Christian  asked  him  further.  If  he 
could  not  help  him  off  with  his  burden  that  was  upon  his  back ;  for  as 
yet  he  had  not  got  rid  thereof,  nor  could  he  by  any  means  get  it  off 
without  help. 

He  told  him ;  As  to  thy  burden,  be  content  to  bear  it,  until  thou 
comest  to  the  place  of  Deliverance ;  for  there  it  will  fall  from  thy  back 
itself. 

Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  to  address  himself  to 
his  Journey.  So  the  other  told  him,  that  by  that  he  was  gone  some 
distance  from  the  Gate,  he  would  come  at  the  House  of  the  Inter- 
preter; at  whose  Door  he  should  knock;  and  he  would  shew  him 
excellent  things.  Then  Christian  took  his  leave  of  his  Friend,  and  he 
again  bid  him  God  speed. 

Then  he  went  on,  till  he  came  at  the  House  of  the  Interpreter, 
where  he  knocked  over  and  over  :  at  last  one  came  to  the  Door,  and 
asked  Who  'was  there  ? 

Chr.  Sir,  here  is  a  Traveller,  who  was  bid  by  an  acquaintance  of 
the  Good-man  of  this  House,  to  call  here  for  my  profit :  I  would  there- 
fore speak  with  the  Master  of  the  House.  So  he  called  for  the  Master 
of  the  House;  who  after  a  little  time  came  to  Christian,  and  asked 
him  what  he  would  have  ? 

Chr.  Sir,  said  Christian,  I  am  a  Man  that  am  come  from  the 
City  of  Destruction,  and  am  going  to  the  Mount  Zion,  and  I  was  told 
by  the  Man  that  stands  at  the  Gate,  at  the  head  of  this  way.  That  if  I 

23 


'''-^^ 


vC^ 


\5 


(3 


Bi 

^p^gH^^ 

^ 

'M^l 

i^ 

is?  "^  fe     K^ 

H 

^^^^g 

1 

1 

w 

^^HH 

1 

^^H|j 

P^^^^^P^KhM 

P 

9lAb^Sj^< 

)mP 

^P 

^^^^^i 

1 

i^n 

K' 

11 

!^^^ 

^Mmf^&m    -flM*^ 

H 

MnHna 

7||B|| 

Ml 

"^"^^^M 

^l^^r '/v^  a! 

P 

ilinHil 

n^ 

^s 

^^^^^ 

1 

^Bh 

s 

^1 

te^^^ 

3^ 

The  name  of  the  eldest  was  Pdssion,  and  of  the  other  'Patience. 


called  here,  you 
would  shew  me 
excellent  things, 
such  as  would  be 
an  help  to  me  in 
my  Journey. 

Inter.  Then 
said  the  Interpre- 
ter, Come  in,  I  will 
shew  thee  that 
which  will  be  prof- 
itable to  thee.     So 


he  commanded  his  Man  to  light  the  Candle,  and  bid  Christian  follow 
him ;  so  he  had  him  into  a  private  Room,  and  bid  his  Man  open  a 
Door ;  the  which  when  he  had  done.  Christian  saw  the  Picture  of  a 
very  grave  Person  hang  up  against  the  Wall,  and  this  was  the  fashion 
of  it.  It  had  eyes  lift  up  to  Hea'ben,  the  best  of  Books  in  his  hand, 
the  Laiv  of  Truth  ivas  ivritten  upon  his  lips,  the  World  luas  behind 
his  back  ;  it  stood  as  if  it  pleaded  ivith  cMen,  and  a  Cro'wn  of  Gold 
did  hang  over  his  head, 

Chr.   Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

Inter.  The  Man  whose  Picture  this  is,  is  one  of  a  thousand ;  he 
can  beget  Children,  travel  in  birth  with  Children,  and  nurse  them  him- 
self when  they  are  born.  And  whereas  thou  seest  him  with  his  eyes 
lift  up  to  Heaven,  the  best  of  Books  in  his  hand,  and  the  Law  of 
Truth  writ  on  his  lips :  it  is  to  shew  thee,  that  his  work  is  to  know 
and  unfold  dark  things  to  sinners ;  even  as  also  thou  seest  him  stand 
as  if  he  pleaded  with  Men:  And  whereas  thou  seest  the  World  as  cast 
behind  him,  and  that  a  Crown  hangs  over  his  head ;  that  is,  to  shew 
thee  that  slighting  and  despising  the  things  that  are  present,  for  the 
love  that  he  hath  to  his  Masters  service,  he  is  sure  in  the  World  that 
comes  next  to  have  Glory  for  his  Reward.  Now,  said  the  Interpreter, 
I  have  shewed  thee  this  Picture  first,  because  the  Man  whose  Picture 
this  is,  is  the  only  Man,  whom  the  Lord  of  the  Place  whither  thou  art 
going,  hath  authorized  to  be  thy  Guide  in  all  difficult  places  thou 
mayest  meet  with  in  the  way :  wherefore  take  good  heed  to  what  I 


2-i 


iTot 


p^ 


e 


iQ-3^ 


SI 


t3\ 


'O-^ 


i~^^ 


have  shewed  thee,  and  bear  well  in  thy  mind  what  thou  hast  seen ; 
lest  in  thy  Journey  thou  meet  with  some  that  pretend  to  lead  thee 
right,  but  their  way  goes  down  to  death. 

Then  he  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  very  large  Par- 
lour that  was  full  of  dust,  because  never  swept ;  the  which,  after  he 
had  reviewed  a  little  while,  the  Interpreter  called  for  a  man  to  siveep. 
Now  when  he  began  to  sweep,  the  dust  began  so  abundantly  to  fly 
about,  that  Christian  had  almost  therewith  been  choaked.  Then  said 
the  Interpreter  to  a  Damsel  that  stood  by.  Bring  hither  the  Water,  and 
sprinkle  the  Room;  which  when  she  had  done,  it  was  swept  and 
cleansed  with  pleasure. 

Chr,    Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

Inter.  The  Interpreter  answered;  this  Parlour  is  the  heart  of  a 
Man  that  was  never  sanctified  by  the  sweet  Grace  of  the  Gospel :  the 
dust,  is  his  Original  Sin,  and  inward  Corruptions  that  have  defiled  the 
whole  Man.  He  that  began  to  sweep  at  first  is  the  Law ;  but  She 
that  brought  water,  and  did  sprinkle  it,  is  the  Gospel.  Now,  whereas 
thou  sawest  that  so  soon  as  the  first  began  to  sweep,  the  dust  did  so 
fly  about  that  the  Room  by  him  could  not  be  cleansed,  but  that  thou 
wast  almost  choaked  therewith :  this  is  to  shew  thee,  that  the  Law, 
instead  of  cleansing  the  heart  (by  its  working)  from  sin,  doth  revive, 
put  strength  into,  and  increase  it  in  the  soul,  even  as  it  doth  discover 
and  forbid  it,  but  doth  not  give  power  to  subdue. 

Again,  as  thou  sawest  the  Damsel  sprinkle  the  Room  with  Water, 
upon  which  it  was  cleansed  with  pleasure ;  this  is  to  shew  thee,  that 
when  the  Gospel  comes  in  the  sweet  and  precious  influences  thereof 
to  the  heart,  then,  I  say,  even  as  thou  sawest  the  Damsel  lay  the  dust 
by  sprinkling  the  Floor  with  Water,  so  is  sin  vanquished  and  sub- 
dued, and  the  soul  made  clean,  through  the  faith  of  it,  and  conse- 
quently fit  for  the  King  of  Glory  to  inhabit. 

I  saw  moreover  in  my  Dream,  that  the  Interpreter  took  him  by  the 
hand,  and  had  him  into  a  little  Room,  where  sate  two  little  Children, 
each  one  in  his  Chair.  The  name  of  the  eldest  was  Passion,  and  of 
the  other  Patience.  Passion  seemed  to  be  much  discontent,  but  Pa- 
tience was  very  quiet.  Then  Christian  asked,  What  is  the  reason  of 
the  discontent  of  Passion  ?    The  Interpreter  answered.  The  Governor 

25 


J^ 


m 


3 


of  them  would  have  him  stay  for  his  best  things  till  the  beginning  of 
the  next  year ;  but  he  will  have  all  now :  But  Patience  is  willing  to  wait. 

Then  I  saw  that  one  came  to  Passion,  and  brought  him  a  Bag  of 
Treasure,  and  poured  it  down  at  his  feet ;  the  which  he  took  up,  and 
rejoiced  therein ;  and  withal,  laughed  Patience  to  scorn.  But  I  beheld 
but  a  while,  and  he  had  lavished  all  away,  and  had  nothing  left  him 
but  Rags. 

Chr.  Then  said  Qiristian  to  the  Interpreter,  Expound  this  matter 
more  fully  to  me. 

Inter.  So  he  said.  These  two  Lads  are  Figures ;  Passion,  of  the 
Men  of  this  World;  and  Patience,  of  the  Men  of  that  which  is  to 
come.  For  as  here  thou  seest.  Passion  ivill  have  all  noiu,  this  year ; 
that  is  to  say,  in  this  World ;  So  are  the  Men  of  this  World :  they 
must  have  all  their  good  things  now,  they  cannot  stay  till  next  Year; 
that  is,  until  the  next  World,  for  their  Portion  of  good.  That  Proverb, 
c/1  Bird  in  the  Hand  is  ivorth  t<wo  in  the  Bush,  is  of  more  Authority 
with  them,  than  are  all  the  Divine  Testimonies  of  the  good  of  the 
World  to  come.  But  as  thou  sawest,  that  he  had  quickly  lavished  all 
away,  and  had  presently  left  him,  nothing  but  Rags;  so  will  it  be 
with  all  such  Men  at  the  end  of  this  World. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  No'w  I  see  that  Patience  has  the  best 
Wisdom;  and  that  upon  many  accounts,  I.  Because  he  stays  for  the 
best  things.  2.  And  also  because  he  ivill  have  the  glory  of  his,  'when 
the  other  hath  nothing  but  Rags. 

Inter.  Nay,  you  may  add  another ;  to  wit,  the  Glory  of  the  next 
world  will  never  wear  out ;  but  these  are  suddenly  gone.  Therefore 
Passion  had  not  so  much  reason  to  laugh  at  Patience,  because  he  had 
his  good  things  first,  as  Patience  will  have  to  laugh  at  Passion,  because 
he  had  his  best  things  last ;  for  first  must  give  place  to  last,  because 
last  must  have  his  time  to  come,  but  last  gives  place  to  nothing  /  for 
there  is  not  another  to  succeed.  He  therefore  that  hath  his  Portion 
first,  must  needs  have  a  time  to  spend  it ;  but  he  that  has  his  Portion 
last,  must  have  it  lastingly.  Therefore  it  is  said  of  Dives,  In  thy  life- 
time thou  receivedest  thy  good  things,  and  likeivise  Lazarus  evil 
things  ;    But  novi)  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented. 

Chr,  Then  I  perceive,  'tis  not  best  to  covet  things  that  are  now; 
but  to  ivait  for  things  to  come. 

Inter.  You  say  Truth ;    For  the  things  that  are  seen,  are  Tem- 

26 


»®< 


o©' 


m 


f)< 


'b:^^ 


5>/0 


This  fire  is  the  work  of  Grace  that  is  wrought  in  the  heart ;  he  that  casts  Water  upon  it, 
to  extinguish  and  put  it  out,  is  the  Devil. 


mm. 


'  Z'  , 


poral ;  bat  the  things  that  are  not  seen,  are  Eternal.  But  though  this 
be  so ;  yet  since  things  present,  and  our  fleshly  appetite,  are  such  near 
cHeighbors  one  to  another ;  and  again,  because  things  to  come,  and 
carnal  sense,  are  such  strangers  one  to  another :  therefore  it  is,  that 
the  first  of  these  so  suddenly  fall  into  amity,  and  that  distance  is  so 
continued  between  the  second. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  the  Interpreter  took  Christian  by  the 
hand,  and  led  him  into  a  place  where  was  a  Fire  burning  against  a 
Wall,  and  one  standing  by  it  always,  casting  much  Water  upon  it  to 
quench  it :  yet  did  the  Fire  burn  higher  and  hotter. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

The  Interpreter  answered.  This  fire  is  the  work  of  Grace  that  is 
wrought  in  the  heart ;  he  that  casts  Water  upon  it,  to  extinguish  and 
put  it  out,  is  the  Devil :  but  in  that  thou  seest  the  fire  notwithstanding 
burn  higher  and  hotter,  thou  shaft  also  see  the  reason  of  that :  So  he 
had  him  about  to  the  back  side  of  the  Wall,  where  he  saw  a  Man 
with  a  Vessel  of  Oil  in  his  hand,  of  the  which  he  did  also  continually 
cast  (but  secretly,)  into  the  fire.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means 
this  ?  The  Interpreter  answered.  This  is  Christ,  who  continually,  with 
the  Oil  of  his  Grace,  maintains  the  work  already  begun  in  the  heart ;  by 
the  means  of  which,  notwithstanding  what  the  Devil  can  do,  the  souls 
of  his  People  prove  gracious  still.  And  in  that  thou  sawest  that  the 
Man  stood  behind  the  Wall  to  maintain  the  fire ;  this  is  to  teach  thee, 
that  it  is  hard  for  the  tempted  to  see  how  this  work  of  Grace  is  main- 
tained in  the  soul. 

I  saw  also  that  the  Interpreter  took  him  again  by  the  hand,  and  led 
him  into  a  pleasant  place,  where  was  builded  a  stately  Palace,  beautiful 
to  behold ;  at  the  sight  of  which.  Christian  was  greatly  delighted ;  he 
saw  also  upon  the  top  thereof,  certain  Persons  walked,  who  were 
doathed  all  in  Gold.  Then  said  Christian,  May  we  go  in  thither  ? 
Then  the  Interpreter  took  him,  and  led  him  up  toward  the  door  of  the 
Palace ;  and  behold,  at  the  door  stood  a  great  Company  of  men,  as 
desirous  to  go  in,  but  durst  not.  There  also  sat  a  Man,  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  door,  at  a  Table-side,  with  a  Book,  and  his  Inkhorn 
before  him,  to  take  the  Name  of  him  that  should  enter  therein :  He 
saw  also  that  in  the  doorway,  stood  many  Men  in  Armor  to  keep  it ; 
being  resolved  to  do  to  the  Man  that  would  enter,  what  hurt  and  mis- 


28 


chief  they  could.  Now  was  Christian  somewhat  in  a  maze :  at  last, 
when  every  Man  started  back  for  fear  of  the  armed  men ;  Christian 
saw  a  Man  of  a  very  stout  countenance  come  up  to  the  Man  that  sat 
there  to  write ;  saying,  Set  dcnvn  my  name,  Sir ;  the  which  when  he 
had  done,  he  saw  the  Man  draw  his  Sword,  and  put  an  Helmet  upon 
his  Head,  and  rush  toward  the  door  upon  the  armed  men,  who  laid 
upon  him  with  deadly  force ;  but  the  Man,  not  at  all  discouraged,  fell 
to  cutting  and  hacking  most  fiercely ;  so,  after  he  had  received  and 
given  many  wounds  to  those  that  attempted  to  keep  him  out,  he  cut 
his  way  through  them  all,  and  pressed  forward  into  the  Palace ;  at 
which  there  was  a  pleasant  voice  heard  from  those  that  were  within, 
even  of  those  that  walked  upon  the  top  of  the  Palace,  saying. 

Come  in.  Come  in  ; 

Eternal  Glory  thou  shall  'win. 

So  he  went  in,  and  was  doathed  with  such  Garments  as  they.    Then 
Christian  smiled,  and  said,  I  think  verily  I  know  the  meaning  of  this. 

Now,  said  Chris- 
tian, let  me  go 
hence :  Nay  stay 
(said  the  Interpre- 
ter,) till  I  have 
shewed  thee  a  little 
more,  and  after  that 
thou  shaft  go  on 
thy  way.  So  he 
took  him  by  the 
hand  again,  and  led 
him  into  a  very 
dark  Room,  where 
there  sat  a  Man  in 
an  Iron  Cage. 

Now  the  Man, 
to  look  on,  seemed 
very   sad:    he   sat 

'  There  also  sat  a  Man  ...  at  a  Table-side,  with  a  Book  and  his  Ink- 

ing     down      to     the       hom  before  him,  to  take  the  Name  of  him  that  should  enter  therein. 


be 

u 

c 
o 


a 


a 

(4 
<4 


o 

c2 


<4 


<4 
O 

a 
1 

G 

'c3 
6S 

<4 

C 
i< 

,£! 

o 
o 

,ci 
o 


ground,  his  hands  folded  together ;  and  he  sighed  as  if  he  would  break 
his  heart.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ?  At  which  the  In- 
terpreter bid  him  talk  with  the  Man. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian  to  the  Man,  What  art  thou  }  The  Man 
answered,  I  am  ivhat  Iiuas  not  once. 

Chr.    What  ivast  thou  once  ? 

Man.  The  Man  said,  I  was  once  a  fair  and  flourishing  Professor, 
both  in  mine  own  eyes,  and  also  in  the  eyes  of  others :  I  once  was,  as 
I  thought,  fair  for  the  Coelestial  City,  and  had  then  even  joy  at  the 
thoughts  that  I  should  get  thither. 

Chr.    Well,  but  what  art  thou  now  ? 

Man.  I  am  now  a  Man  of  Despair,  and  am  shut  up  in  it,  as  in  this 
Iron  Cage.    I  cannot  get  out ;  O  now  I  cannot. 

Chr.  But  how  earnest  thou  in  this  condition  ? 

Man.  I  left  off  to  watch,  and  be  sober ;  I  laid  the  reins  upon  the 
neck  of  my  lusts ;  I  sinned  against  the  light  of  the  Word,  and  the 
goodness  of  God :  I  have  grieved  the  Spirit,  and  he  is  gone ;  I  tempted 
the  Devil,  and  he  is  come  to  me ;  I  have  provoked  God  to  anger,  and 
he  has  left  me ;  I  have  so  hardened  my  heart,  that  I  cannot  repent. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,  But  is  there  no  hopes  for  such 
a  Man  as  this  ?    Ask  him,  said  the  Interpreter. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  Is  there  no  hope  But  you  must  be  kept  in 
the  Iron  Cage  of  Despair  ? 

Man.    No,  none  at  all. 

Chr.    Why  ?    The  Son  of  the  Blessed  is  very  pitiful. 

Man,  I  have  crucified  him  to  myself,  afresh.  I  have  despised  his 
Person,  I  have  despised  his  Righteousness,  I  have  counted  his  Blood 
an  unholy  thing,  I  have  done  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  Grace :  There- 
fore I  have  shut  myself  out  of  all  the  Promises ;  and  there  now  remains 
to  me  nothing  but  threatnings,  dreadful  threatnings,  faithful  threatnings 
of  certain  Judgment,  which  shall  devour  me  as  an  Adversary. 

Inter.  For  what  did  you  bring  yourself  into  this  condition  ? 

Man.  For  the  Lusts,  Pleasures,  and  Profits  of  this  World ;  in  the  en- 
joyment of  which,  I  did  then  promise  my  self  much  delight ;  but  now  every 
one  of  those  things  also  bite  me,  and  gnaw  me  like  a  burning  worm. 

Inter.   But  canst  thou  not  now  repent  and  turn  ? 

31 


Gather  my  Wheat  into  the  Gamer. 

Man.  God  hath  denied  me  repentance;  his  Word  gives  me  no 
encouragement  to  believe ;  yea,  himself  hath  shut  me  up  in  this  Iron 
Cage;  nor  can  all  the  men  in  the  World  let  me  out.  O  Eternity! 
Eternity !  how  shall  I  grapple  with  the  misery  that  I  must  meet  with 
in  Eternity ! 

Inter.  Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Let  this  mans  misery 
be  remembred  by  thee,  and  be  an  everlasting  caution  to  thee. 

Chr.  Well,  said  Christian,  this  is  fearful ;  God  help  me  to  watch 
and  be  sober ;  and  to  pray,  that  I  may  shun  the  causes  of  this  mans 
misery.     Sir,  is  it  not  time  for  me  to  go  on  my  way  now  ? 

Inter.  Tarry  till  I  shall  shew  thee  one  thing  more,  and  then  thou 
shalt  go  on  thy  way. 

So  he  took  Christian  by  the  hand  again,  and  led  him  into  a  Cham- 
ber, where  there  was  one  rising  out  of  Bed;  and  as  he  put  on  his 
Raiment,  he  shook  and  trembled.  Then  said  Christian,  Why  doth 
this  Man  thus  tremble  ?  The  Interpreter  then  bid  him  tell  to  Christian 
the  reason  of  his  so  doing.  So  he  began,  and  said :  This  night  as  I 
was  in  my  sleep,  I  Dreamed,  and  behold  the  Heavens  grew  exceeding 
black ;  also  it  thundred  and  lightned  in  most  fearful  wise,  that  it  put 
me  into  an  Agony.  So  I  looked  up  in  my  Dream,  and  saw  the  Clouds 
rack  at  an  unusual  rate;  upon  which  I  heard  a  great  sound  of  a 
Trumpet,  and  saw  also  a  Man  sit  upon  a  Cloud,  attended  with  the 
thousands  of  Heaven ;  they  were  all  in  flaming  fire,  also  the  Heavens 
were  on  a  burning  flame.  I  heard  then  a  voice,  saying.  Arise  ye 
Dead,  and  come  to  Judgment ;   and  with  that,  the  Rocks  rent,  the 


Graves  opened,  &  the  Dead  that  were  therein,  came  forth;  some  of 
them  were  exceeding  glad,  and  looked  upward ;  and  some  sought  to 
hide  themselves  under  the  Mountains.  Then  I  saw  the  Man  that 
sat  upon  the  Cloud,  open  the  Book;  and  bid  the  World  draw  near. 
Yet  there  was  by  reason  of  a  fierce  flame  that  issued  out  and  came 
from  before  him,  a  convenient  distance  betwixt  him  and  them,  as 
betwixt  the  Judge  and  the  Prisoners  at  the  Bar.  I  heard  it  also  pro- 
claimed to  them  that  attended  on  the  Man  that  sat  on  the  Cloud; 
Gather  together  the  Tares,  the  Chaff,  and  Stubble,  and  cast  them  into 
the  burning  Lake;  and  with  that,  the  bottomless  pit  opened,  just 
whereabout  I  stood ;  out  of  the  mouth  of  which  there  came  in  an 
abundant  manner  Smoke,  and  Coals  of  fire,  with  hideous  noises.  It 
was  also  said  to  the  same  persons ;  Gather  my  Wheat  into  the  Gamer. 
And  with  that  I  saw  many  catch'd  up  and  carried  away  into  the 
Clouds,  but  I  was  left  behind.  I  also  sought  to  hide  myself,  but  I 
could  not;  for  the  Man  that  sat  upon  the  Cloud,  still  kept  his  eye 
upon  me :  my  sins  also  came  into  my  mind,  and  my  Conscience  did 
accuse  me  on  every  side.     Upon  this  I  awaked  from  my  sleep. 

Chr.  But  ivhat  ivas  it  that  made  you  so  afraid  of  this  sight  ? 

Man.  Why  I  thought  the  day  of  Judgement  was  come,  and  that  I 
was  not  ready  for  it :  but  this  frighted  me  most,  that  the  Angels 
gathered  up  several,  and  left  me  behind;  also  the  pit  of  Hell  opened 
her  mouth  just  where  I  stood:  my  Conscience  too  afflicted  me;  and 
as  I  thought,  the  Judge  had  always  his  eye  upon  me,  shewing  indig- 
nation in  his  countenance. 


Gather  together  the  Tares,  the  ChaK,  and  Stubble,  and  cast  them  into  the  burning  Lake. 


.  A.., .■.■...,„... ■.■■.^■■■...  ===^^ 


Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Hast  thou  considered  all 
these  things  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  they  put  me  in  hope  and  fear^ 

Inter.  Well,  keep  all  things  so  in  thy  mind,  that  they  may  be  as  a 
Goad  in  thy  sides,  to  prick  thee  forward  in  the  way  thou  must  go. 
Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  to  address  himself  to 
his  Journey.  Then  said  the  Interpreter,  The  Comforter  be  always 
with  thee  good  Christian,  to  guide  thee  in  the  way  that  leads  to  the 
City. 

So  Christian  went  on  his  way,  saying. 

Here  have  I  seen  things  rare  and  profitable  ; 
Things  pleasant,  dreadful;  things  to  make  me  stable 
In  ivhat  I  have  began  to  take  in  hand: 
Then  let  me  think  on  them,  and  understand 
Wherefore  they  she<ived  me  ivas,  and  let  me  be 
Thankful,  O  good  Interpreter,  to  thee. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  the  highway  up  which  Christian 
was  to  go,  was  fenced  on  either  side  with  a  Wall,  and  that  Wall 
is  called  Salvation.  Up  this  way  therefore  did  burdened  Christian 
run,  but  not  without  great  difficulty,  because  of  the  load  on  his  back. 

He  ran  thus  till  he  came  at  a  place  somewhat  ascending ;  and  upon 
that  place  stood  a  Cross,  and  a  little  below  in  the  bottom,  a  Sepulchre. 
So  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  just  as  Christian  came  up  with  the  Cross, 
his  burden  loosed  from  off  his  Shoulders,  and  fell  from  off  his  back, 
and  began  to  tumble;  and  so  continued  to  do,  till  it  came  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Sepulchre,  where  it  fell  in,  and  I  saw  it  no  more. 

Then  was  Christian  glad  and  lightsome,  and  said  with  a  merry 
heart,  He  hath  given  me  rest,  by  his  sorroiv  ;  and  life,  by  his  death. 
Then  he  stood  still  a  while,  to  look  and  wonder ;  for  it  was  very  sur- 
prising to  him,  that  the  sight  of  the  Cross  should  thus  ease  him  of  his 
burden.  He  looked  therefore,  and  looked  again,  even  till  the  springs 
that  were  in  his  head  sent  the  waters  down  his  cheeks.  Now  as  he 
stood  looking  and  weeping,  behold  three  shining  ones  came  to  him, 
and  saluted  him,  with  Peace  be  to  thee :  so  the  first  said  to  him,  Thy 
sins  be  forgiven.  The  second,  stript  him  of  his  Rags,  and  cloathed 
him  with  change  of  Raiment.    The  third  also  set  a  mark  in  his  fore- 

34 


Behold  three  shiningf  ones  came  to  him,  and  saluted  him,  with  Peace  be  to  thee. 


head,  and  gave  him  a  Roll  with  a  Seal  upon  it,  which  he  bid  him  look 
on  as  he  ran,  and  that  he  should  give  it  in  at  the  Coelestial  Gate ;  so 
they  went  their  way.  Then  Christian  gave  three  leaps  for  joy,  and 
went  on  singing, 

Thus  far  did  I  come  loaden  ivith  my  sin  ; 
oA(br  could  ought  ease  the  grief  that  I  ivas  in. 
Till  I  came  hither :    What  a  place  is  this  I 
cMust  here  be  the  beginning  of  my  bliss  ? 
cMust  here  the  burden  fall  from  off  my  back  ? 
cMust  here  the  strings  that  bound  it  to  me  crack  ? 
Blest  Cross  !  blest  Sepulchre  I  blest  rather  be 
The  cMan  that  there  ivas  put  to  shame  for  me. 

I  saw  then  in  my  Dream  that  he  went  on  thus,  even  until  he 
came  at  a  bottom,  where  he  saw,  a  little  out  of  the  way,  three 
Men  fast  asleep  with  Fetters  upon  their  heels.  The  name  of  the 
one  was  Simple,  another  Sloth,  and  the  third  Presumption. 

Christian  then  see- 
ing them  lie  in  this 
case,  went  to  them, 
if  peradventure  he 
might  awake  them. 
And  cried,  You  are 
like  them  that  sleep 
on  the  top  of  a  Mast, 
for  the  dead  Sea  is 
under  you,  a  Gulf 
that  hath  no  bottom. 
Awake  therefore  and 
come  away ;  be  will- 
ing also,  and  I  will 
help  you  off  with  your 
Irons.  He  also  told 
them.  If  he  that  goeth 
about  like  a  roaring 
Lion  comes  by,  you 
will  certainly  become 


a  prey  to  his  teeth.  With  that  they  lookt  upon  him,  and  began  to  reply 
in  this  sort :  Simple  said,  /  see  no  danger  ;  Sloth  said.  Yet  a  little  more 
sleep :  and  Presumption  said.  Every  Fatt  mast  stand  upon  his  oivn 
bottom.  And  so  they  lay  down  to  sleep  again,  and  Christian  went  on 
his  way. 

Yet  was  he  troubled  to  think  that  men  in  that  danger  should  so  little 
esteem  the  kindness  of  him  that  so  freely  offered  to  help  them ;  both 
by  awakening  of  them,  counseling  of  them,  and  proffering  to  help  them 
off  with  their  Irons.  And  as  he  was  troubled  thereabout,  he  espied 
two  Men  come  tumbling  over  the  Wall,  on  the  left  hand  of  the  narrow 
way ;  and  they  made  up  apace  to  him.  The  name  of  the  one  was 
Formalist,  and  the  name  of  the  other  Hypocrisy,  So,  as  I  said,  they 
drew  up  unto  him,  who  thus  entered  with  them  into  discourse. 

Chr.   Gentlemen,  Whence  came  you,  and  ivhither  do  you  go  } 

Form,  and  Hyp,  We  were  born  in  the  land  of  Vain-glory,  and  are 
going  for  praise  to  Mount  Sion. 

Chr.  Why  came  you  not  in  at  the  Gate  which  standeth  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  ivay  ?  Knoiv  you  not  that  it  is  "written,  That  he  that 
Cometh  not  in  by  the  door,  but  climbeth  up  some  other  'way,  the  same 
is  a  thief  and  a  robber  } 

Form,  and  Hyp.  They  said.  That  to  go  to  the  Gate  for  entrance, 
was  by  all  their  Countrymen  counted  too  far  about ;  and  that  therefore 
their  usual  way  was  to  make  a  short  cut  of  it,  and  to  climb  over  the 
wall  as  they  had  done. 

Chr.  But  ivill  it  not  be  counted  a  Trespass  against  the  Lord  of  the 
City  whither  ive  are  bound,  thus  to  violate  his  revealed  'will  ? 

Form,  and  Hyp.  They  told  him.  That  as  for  that,  he  needed  not 
to  trouble  his  head  thereabout :  for  what  they  did,  they  had  custom 
for ;  and  could  produce,  if  need  were.  Testimony  that  would  witness 
it,  for  more  than  a  thousand  years. 

Chr.  But,  said  Christian,  wiill  your  practice  stand  a  Trial  at 
Ld'w? 

Form,  and  Hyp.  They  told  him.  That  Custom,  it  being  of  so  long 
a  standing,  as  above  a  thousand  years,  would  doubtless  now  be  ad- 
mitted as  a  thing  legal,  by  an  Impartial  Judge.  And  besides,  said  they, 
if  we  get  into  the  way,  what's  matter  which  way  we  get  in  ?  If  we 
are  in,  we  are  in :  thou  art  but  in  the  way,  who,  as  we  perceive,  came 


( 


37 


V 


He  espied  two  Men  come  tumbling  over  the  Wall. 


in  at  the  Gate ;  and  we  are  also  in  the  way,  that  came  tumbling  over 
the  wall.    Wherein  now  is  thy  condition  better  than  ours  ? 

Chr.  I  walk  by  the  Rule  of  my  Master,  you  walk  by  the  rude 
working  of  your  fancies.  You  are  counted  thieves  already,  by  the 
Lord  of  the  way ;  therefore  I  doubt  you  will  not  be  found  true  men  at 
the  end  of  the  way.  You  come  in  by  yourselves  without  his  direction, 
and  shall  go  out  by  yourselves  without  his  mercy. 

To  this  they  made  him  but  little  answer;  only  they  bid  him  look  to 
himself.  Then  I  saw  that  they  went  on  every  man  in  his  way,  with- 
out much  conference  one  with  another ;  save  that  these  two  men  told 
Christian,  That,  as  to  Laius  and  Ordinances,  they  doubted  not  but 
they  should  as  conscientiously  do  them  as  he.  Therefore  said  they, 
We  see  not  wherein  thou  differest  from  us,  but  by  the  Coat  that  is  on 
thy  back,  which  was,  as  we  tro,  given  thee  by  some  of  thy  Neighbors, 
to  hide  the  shame  of  thy  nakedness. 

Chr.  By  Laws  and  Ordinances,  you  will  not  be  saved,  since  you 
came  not  in  by  the  door.  And  as  for  this  Coat  that  is  on  my  back,  it 
was  given  me  by  the  Lord  of  the  place  whither  I  go ;  and  that,  as  you 
say,  to  cover  my  nakedness  with.  And  I  take  it  as  a  token  of  his 
kindness  to  me,  for  I  had  nothing  but  rags  before.  And  besides,  thus 
I  comfort  myself  as  I  go :  Surely,  think  I,  when  I  come  to  the  Gate  of 
the  City,  the  Lord  thereof  will  know  me  for  good,  since  I  have  his  Coat 
on  my  back ;  a  Coat  that  he  gave  me  freely  in  the  day  that  he  stript 

38 


me  of  my  rags.  I  have  moreover  a  mark  in  my  forehead,  of  which 
perhaps  you  have  taken  no  notice,  which  one  of  my  Lords  most  inti- 
mate Associates,  fixed  there  in  the  day  that  my  burden  fell  off  my 
shoulders.  I  will  tell  you  moreover,  that  I  had  then  given  me  a  Roll 
sealed  to  comfort  me  by  reading,  as  I  go  in  the  way;  I  was  also  bid  to 
give  it  in  at  the  Ccelestial  Gate,  in  token  of  my  certain  going  in  after 
it :  all  which  things  I  doubt  you  want,  and  want  them  because  you 
came  not  in  at  the  Gate. 

To  these  things  they  gave  him  no  answer,  only  they  looked  upon 
each  other  and  laughed.  Then  I  saw  that  they  went  on  all,  save  that 
Christian  kept  before,  who  had  no  more  talk  but  with  himself,  and  that 
sometimes  sighingly,  and  sometimes  comfortably :  also  he  would  be 
often  reading  in  the  Roll  that  one  of  the  shining  ones  gave  him,  by 
which  he  was  refreshed. 

I  beheld  then,  that  they  all  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  foot  of  the 
Hill  Difficulty,  at  the  bottom  of  which  was  a  Spring.  There  was  also 
in  the  same  place  two  other  ways  besides  that  which  came  straight 
from  the  Gate ;  one  turned  to  the  left  hand,  and  the  other  to  the  right, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  Hill :  but  the  narrow  way  lay  right  up  the  Hill 
(and  the  name  of  the  going  up  the  side  of  the  Hill,  is  called  Difficulty.) 
Christian  now  went  to  the  Spring  and  drank  thereof  to  refresh  him- 
self, and  then  began  to  go  up  the  Hill ;  saying. 

This  Hill,  though  high,  I  covet  to  ascend; 

The  difficulty  will  not  me  offend; 

For  I  perceive  the  l^ay  to  life  lies  here  ; 

Come,  pluck  up.  Heart ;  lets  neither  faint  nor  fear : 

Better,  tho'  difficult,  th' right  ivay  to  go. 

Than  ivrong,  though  easy,  ivhere  the  end  is  ivo. 

The  other  two  also  came  to  the  foot  of  the  Hill.  But  when  they 
saw  that  the  Hill  was  steep  and  high,  and  that  there  was  two  other 
ways  to  go;  and  supposing  also,  that  these  two  ways  might  meet 
again  with  that  up  which  Christian  went,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Hill ; 
therefore  they  were  resolved  to  go  in  those  ways  (now  the  name  of 
one  of  those  ways  was  Danger,  and  the  name  of  the  other  Destruction.) 

39 


He  fell  from  running  to  going,  and  from  going  to  clambering  upon  his  hands  and  his  knees, 

because  of  the  steepness  of  the  place. 


m 


SE^ 


.Vi 


So  the  one  took  the  way  which  is  called  Danger,  which  led  him  into 
a  great  Wood ;  and  the  other  took  directly  up  the  way  to  Destruction, 
which  led  him  into  a  wide  field  full  of  dark  Mountains,  where  he 
stumbled  and  fell,  and  rose  no  more. 

I  looked  then  after  Christian,  to  see  him  go  up  the  Hill,  where  I  per- 
ceived he  fell  from  running  to  going,  and  from  going  to  clambering 
upon  his  hands  and  his  knees,  because  of  the  steepness  of  the  place. 
Now  about  the  midway  to  the  top  of  the  Hill,  was  a  pleasant  Arbor, 
made  by  the  Lord  of  the  Hill,  for  the  refreshing  of  weary  Travellers. 
Thither  therefore  Christian  got,  where  also  he  sat  down  to  rest  him. 
Then  he  pull'd  his  Roll  out  of  his  bosom  and  read  therein  to  his  com- 
fort ;  he  also  now  began  afresh  to  take  a  review  of  the  Coat  or  Gar- 
ment that  was  given  him  as  he  stood  by  the  Cross.  Thus  pleasing 
himself  a  while,  he  at  last  fell  into  a  slumber,  and  thence  into  a  fast 
sleep,  which  detained  him 
in  that  place  until  it  was 
almost  night,  and  in  his 
sleep  his  Roll  fell  out  of 
his  hand.  Now  as  he 
was  sleeping,  there  came 
one  to  him,  and  awaked 
him  saying.  Go  to  the 
Ant,  thou  sluggard,  con- 
sider her  ivays  and  be 
'wise.  And  with  that 
Christian  suddenly  started 
up,  and  sped  him  on  his 
way,  and  went  apace  till 
he  came  to  the  top  of  the 
Hill. 

Now  when  he  was  got 
up  to  the  top  of  the  Hill, 
there  came  two  men  run- 
ning against  him  amain ; 
the  name  of  the  one  was 
Timorous,  and  the  name      ^,  , .,  t- 

1  he  name  oi  the  one  was  /  tmorous, 
of  the  Other  cMistrUSt,  to  other  Mistrust. 

41 


'Ws. 


'^\ 


mi 


f 


iW 


and  the  name  of  the 


lO^ 


M^ 


IP 


3 


K5\ 


so 


whom  Christian  said.  Sirs,  what's  the  matter  you  run  the  wrong  way  ? 
Timorous  answered,  That  they  were  going  to  the  City  of  Zion,  and 
had  got  up  that  difficult  place ;  but,  said  he,  the  further  we  go,  the  more 
danger  we  meet  with,  wherefore  we  turned,  and  are  going  back  again. 

Yes,  said  Mistrust,  for  just  before  us  lie  a  couple  of  Lions  in  the 
way,  (whether  sleeping  or  waking  we  know  not) ;  and  we  could 
not  think,  if  we  came  within  reach,  but  they  would  presently  pull 
us  to  pieces. 

CHR.  Xhen  said  Christian,  You  make  me  afraid,  but  whither  shall 
I  fly  to  be  safe  ?  If  I  go  back  to  mine  own  Country,  That  is  prepared 
for  Fire  and  Brimstone ;  and  I  shall  certainly  perish  there.  If  I  can 
get  to  the  Coelestial  City,  I  am  sure  to  be  in  safety  there.  I  must  ven- 
ture. To  go  back  is  nothing  but  death ;  to  go  forward  is  fear  of  death, 
and  life  everlasting  beyond  it.  I  will  yet  go  forward.  So  Mistrust 
and  Timorous  ran  down  the  Hill;  and  Christian  went  on  his  way. 
But  thinking  again  of  what  he  heard  from  the  men,  he  felt  in'  his 
bosom  for  his  Roll,  that  he  might  read  therein  and  be  comforted ;  but 
he  felt  and  found  it  not.  Then  was  Christian  in  great  distress,  and 
knew  not  what  to  do,  for  he  wanted  that  which  used  to  relieve  him, 
and  that  which  should  have  been  his  Pass  into  the  Ccelestial  City. 
Here  therefore  he  began  to  be  much  perplexed,  and  knew  not  what  to 
do ;  at  last  he  bethought  himself  that  he  had  slept  in  the  Arbor  that  is 
on  the  side  of  the  Hill:  and  falling  down  upon  his  knees,  he  asked 
God  forgiveness  for  that  his  foolish  Fact ;  and  then  went  back  to  look 
for  his  Roll.  But  all  the  way  he  went  back,  who  can  sufficiently  set 
forth  the  sorrow  of  Christians  heart  ?  somtimes  he  sighed,  som- 
times  he  wept,  and  often  times  he  chid  himself,  for  being  so  foolish  to 
fall  asleep  in  that  place  which  was  erected  only  for  a  little  refreshment 
from  his  weariness.  Thus  therefore  he  went  back ;  carefully  looking 
on  this  side  and  on  that,  all  the  way  as  he  went,  if  happily  he  might 
find  his  Roll,  that  had  been  his  comfort  so  many  times  in  his  Journey. 
He  went  thus  till  he  came  again  within  sight  of  the  Arbor,  where  he 
sat  and  slept ;  but  that  sight  renewed  his  sorrow  the  more,  by  bring- 
ing again,  even  afresh,  his  evil  of  sleeping  into  his  mind.  Thus  there- 
fore he  now  went  on  bewailing  his  sinful  sleep,  saying,  O  ivretched 
cMan  that  I  am,  that  I  should  sleep  in  the  day-time !  that  I  should  sleep 


(9^ 


n 


He  at  last  fell  into  a  slumber,  and  thence  into  a  fast  sleep,  which  detained  him  in  that  place  until  it  was  almost  night, 

and  in  his  sleep  his  Roll  fell  out  of  his  hand. 


He  espied  his  Roll;  the  which  he  with  trembling  and  haste 
catch'd  up,  and  put  it  into  his  bosom. 


in  the  midst  of  difficulty ! 
that  I  should  so  indulge 
the  flesh,  as  to  use  that 
rest  fcr  ease  to  my  flesh, 
which  the  Lord  of  the 
Hill  hath  erected  only 
for  the  relief  of  the  spir- 
its of  Pilgrims !  How 
many  steps  have  I  took 
in  vain!  (Thus  it  hap- 
pened to  Israel  for  their 
sin,  they  were  sent  back 
again  by  the  way  of  the 
Red-Sea.)  and  I  am 
made  to  tread  those 
steps  with  sorrow, 
which  I  might ,  have 
trod  with  delight,  had 
it  not  been  for  this  sin- 


ful sleep.  How  far  might  I  have  been  on  my  way  by  this  time! 
I  am  made  to  tread  those  steps  thrice  over,  which  I  needed  not 
to  have  trod  but  once:  Yea  now  also  I  am  like  to  be  benighted, 
for  the  day  is  almost  spent.  O  that  I  had  not  slept !  Now  by 
this  time  he  was  come  to  the  cArbor  again,  where  for  awhile  he  sat 
down  and  wept,  but  at  last  (as  Christian  would  have  it)  looking  sor- 
rowfully down  under  the  Settle,  there  he  espied  his  Roll ;  the  which 
he  with  trembling  and  haste  catch'd  up,  and  put  it  into  his  bosom. 
But  who  can  tell  how  joyful  this  Man  was,  when  he  had  gotten  his 
Roll  again !  For  this  Roll  was  the  assurance  of  his  life  and  acceptance 
at  the  desired  Haven.  Therefore  he  laid  it  up  in  his  bosom,  gave 
thanks  to  God  for  directing  his  eye  to  the  place  where  it  lay,  and  with 
joy  and  tears  betook  himself  again  to  his  Journey.  But  Oh  how  nim- 
bly now  did  he  go  up  the  rest  of  the  Hill !  Yet  before  he  got  up,  the 
Sun  went  down  upon  Christian ;  and  this  made  him  again  recall  the 
vanity  of  his  sleeping  to  his  remembrance,  and  thus  he  again  began  to 
condole  with  himself :  Oh  thou  sinful  sleep  I  hoHV  for  thy  sake  am  I 
like  to  be  benighted  in  my  Journey  !     I  must  ivalk  'without  the  Sun, 


■J4 


Sll: 


darkness  must  cover  the  path  of  my  feet,  and  I  must  hear  the  noise  of 
doleful  Creatures,  because  of  my  sinful  sleep  !  Now  also  he  remem- 
bered the  story  that  Mistrust  and  Timorous  told  him  of,  how  they  were 
frighted  with  the  sight  of  the  Lions.  Then  said  Christian  to  himself 
again,  These  Beasts  range  in  the  night  for  their  prey,  and  if  they 
should  meet  with  me  in  the  dark,  how  should  I  shift  them  ?  how  should 
I  escape  being  by  them  torn  in  pieces  ?  Thus  he  went  on  his  way,  but 
while  he  was  thus  bewailing  his  unhappy  miscarriage,  he  lift  up  his 
eyes,  and  behold  there  was  a  very  stately  Palace  before  him,  the  name 
of  which  was  Beautiful,  and  it  stood  just  by  the  Highway  side. 

So  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  he  made  haste  and  went  forward,  that 
if  possible  he  might  get  Lodging  there ;  now  before  he  had  gone  far, 
he  entered  into  a  very  narrow  passage,  which  was  about  a  furlong  off 
of  the  Porter's  Lodge,  and  looking  very  narrowly  before  him  as  he 
went,  he  espied  two  Lions  in  the  way.  Now,  thought  he,  I  see  the 
dangers  that  Mistrust  and  Timorous  were  driven  back  by.  (The  Lions 
were  chained,  but  he  saw  not  the  Chains.)  Then  he  was  afraid,  and 
thought  also  himself  to  go  back  after  them,  for  he  thought  nothing  but 
death  was  before  him. 
But  the  Porter  at  the 
Lodge,  whose  Name  is 
Watchful,  perceiving 
that  Christian  made  a 
halt,  as  if  he  would  go 
back,  cried  unto  him, 
saying,  Is  thy  strength 
so  small?  fear  not  the 
Lions,  for  they  are 
chained :  and  are  placed 
there  for  trial  of  faith 
where  it  is ;  and  for  dis- 
covery of  those  that 
have  none :  keep  in  the 
midst  of  the  Path,  and 
no  hurt  shall  come  unto 
thee. 

Then  I  saw  that  he 


« 


.CI 


c 
o 


1^ 

Ji.Vy — il 


TSM 


went  on,  trembling  for  fear  of  the  Lions ;  but  taking  good  heed  to  the 
directions  of  the  Porter  ;  he  heard  them  roar,  but  they  did  him  no  harm. 
Then  he  clapt  his  hands,  and  went  on,  till  he  came  and  stood  before  the 
Gate  where  the  Porter  was.  Then  said  Christian  to  the  Porter,  Sir, 
What  house  is  this  ?  and  may  I  lodge  here  to  night  ?  The  Porter  an- 
swered, This  House  was  built  by  the  Lord  of  the  Hill,  and  he  built  it 
for  the  relief  and  security  of  Pilgrims.  The  Porter  also  asked  whence 
he  was,  and  whither  he  was  going  ? 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  City  of  Destruction,  and  am  going  to 
Mount  Zion,  but  because  the  Sun  is  now  set,  I  desire,  if  I  may,  to  lodge 
here  to  night. 

PoR.    What  is  your  name  ? 

Chr.  My  name  is  now  Christian ;  but  my  name  at  the  first  was 
Graceless :  I  came  of  the  Race  oijaphet,  whom  God  will  perswade  to 
dwell  in  the  Tents  of  Shem. 

PoR.  But  hoiv  doth  it  happen  that  you  come  so  late  ?  the  Sun  is  set. 

Chr.  I  had  been  here  sooner,  but  that,  wretched  man  that  I  am  !  I 
slept  in  the  Arbor  that  stands  on  the  Hill  side ;  nay,  I  had  notwithstand- 
ing that,  been  here  much  sooner,  but  that  in  my  sleep  I  lost  my  evi- 
dence, and  came  without  it  to  the  brow  of  the  Hill ;  and  then  feeling 
for  it,  and  finding  it  not,  I  was  forced  with  sorrow  of  heart  to  go  back 
to  the  place  where  I  slept  my  sleep,  where  I  found  it,  and  now  I  am 
come. 

PoR.  Well,  I  will  call  out  one  of  the  Virgins  of  this  place,  who  will, 
if  she  likes  your  talk,  bring  you  in  to  the  rest  of  the  Family,  according 
to  the  Rules  of  the  House.  So  Watchful  the  Porter  rang  a  Bell,  at  the 
sound  of  which  came  out  at  the  door  of  the  House  a  grave  and  beau- 
tiful Damsel,  named  Discretion,  and  asked  why  she  was  called. 

The  Porter  answered,  This  Man  is  in  a  Journey  from  the  City  of 
Destruction  to  Mount  Zion,  but  being  weary,  and  benighted,  he  asked 
me  if  he  might  lodge  here  to  night ;  so  I  told  him  I  would  call  for  thee, 
who,  after  discourse  had  with  him,  mayest  do  as  seemeth  thee  good, 
even  according  to  the  Law  of  the  House. 

Then  she  asked  him  whence  he  was,  and  whither  he  was  going, 
and  he  told  her.  She  asked  him  also,  how  he  got  into  the  way,  and 
he  told  her.  Then  she  asked  him,  What  he  had  seen,  and  met 
with  in  the  way,  and  he  told  her ;  and  last,  she  asked  his  name,  so  he 


/i-.'Xv.' 


i(„.-:;;.-/ 


«.0WI5  ffHtAo. 


This  Man  is  in  a  Journey  from  the  City  of  Destruction  to  Mount  Zion. 


i 


■FTiT-i'l:-. 


I 


*■.•"• 


said,  It  is  Christian  ;  and  I  have  so  much  the  more  a  desire  to  lodge 
here  tonight,  because,  by  what  I  perceive,  this  place  was  built  by  the 
Lord  of  the  Hill,  for  the  relief  and  security  of  Pilgrims.  So  she  smiled, 
but  the  water  stood  in  her  eyes  :  and  after  a  little  pause,  she  said,  I  will 
call  forth  two  or  three  more  of  the  Family.  So  she  ran  to  the  door,  and 
called  out  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity,  who  after  a  little  more  dis- 
course with  him,  had  him  in  to  the  Family;  and  many  of  them  meet- 
ing him  at  the  threshold  of  the  house,  said.  Come  in  thou  blessed  of  the 
Lord ;  this  House  was  built  by  the  Lord  of  the  Hill,  on  purpose  to 
entertain  such  Pilgrims  in.  Then  he  bowed  his  head,  and  followed 
them  into  the  House.  So  when  he  was  come  in,  and  set  down,  they 
gave  him  something  to  drink ;  and  consented  together  that  until  supper 
was  ready,  some  of  them  should  have  some  particular  discourse  with 
Christian,  for  the  best  improvement  of  time :  and  they  appointed  Piety, 
and  Prudence,  and  Charity,  to  discourse  with  him ;  and  thus  they  began. 

Pi.  Come  good  Christian,  since  iPoe  have  been  so  loving  to  you,  to 
receive  you  into  our  House  this  night ;  let  us,  if  perhaps  ive  may  better 
ourselves  thereby,  talk  ivith  you  of  all  things  that  have  happened  to 
you  in  your  Pilgrimage. 

Chr.  With  a  very  good  will,  and  I  am  glad  that  you  are  so  well 
disposed. 

Pi.    What  moved  you  at  first  to  betake  yourself  to  a  Pilgrims  life  ? 

Chr.  I  was 
driven  out  of  my 
Native  Country, 
by  a  dreadful 
sound  that  was  in 
mine  ears,  to  wit, 
That  unavoidable 
destruction  did  at- 
tend me,  if  I  abode 
in  that  place  where 
I  was. 

Pi.  ButhoJbdid 
it  happen  that  you 

^  ,f  ,  V         So  when  he  was  come  in,  and  set  down,  they  gave  him  something 

Country  thts  way?  ,„  drink. 

49 


^HH^n 

B 

ami 

MMIMiiiiWIlin 

ffl 

UBHH 

j[|^^ 

H 

1 

roH 

j^lllllll 

^ 

■ 

^^3 

vmH 

wwlmbt^Jr  ^jdl/BlB^^^^BStA 

E 

P 

^^R 

Kr  ^ 

1^3  ^^BflHiffl^M 

^m 

1 

^ 

sncim^M^^^HH^^H 

-,r^i'-r--  ■  •'•■U ";:■'- 

A 

•.*••■  :vK' 


..•^•■•« 


•\V 


^1 


Mi 


Chr.  It  was  as  God  would  have  it,  for  when  I  was  under  the  fears 
of  destruction,  I  did  not  know  whither  to  go ;  but  by  chance  there 
came  a  man,  even  to  me,  (as  I  was  trembling  and  weeping)  whose 
name  is  Evangelist,  and  he  directed  me  to  the  Wicket-Gate,  which  else 
I  should  never  have  found ;  and  so  set  me  into  the  way  that  hath  led 
me  directly  to  this  House. 

Pi.  Bat  did  you  not  come  by  the  House  of  the  Interpreter  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  did  see  such  things  there,  the  remembrance  of  which 
will  stick  by  me  as  long  as  I  live ;  specially  three  things,  to  ivit.  How 
Christ,  in  despite  of  Satan,  maintains  his  work  of  Grace  in  the  heart ; 
how  the  Man  had  sinned  himself  quite  out  of  hopes  of  Gods  mercy; 
and  also  the  Dream  of  him  that  thought  in  his  sleep  the  day  of  Judg- 
ment was  come. 

Pi.    Why  ?  Did  you  hear  him  tell  his  Dream  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  a  dreadful  one  it  was.  I  thought  it  made  my  heart 
ake  as  he  was  telling  of  it ;  but  yet  I  am  glad  I  heard  it. 

Pi.    Was  that  ail  that  you  saiu  at  the  House  of  the  Interpreter  ? 

Chr.  No,  he  took  me  and  had  me  where  he  shewed  me  a  stately 
Palace,  and  how  the  People  were  clad  in  Gold  that  were  in  it ;  and 
how  there  came  a  venturous  Man,  and  cut  his  way  through  the  armed 
men  that  stood  in  the  door  to  keep  him  out ;  and  how  he  was  bid  to 
come  in,  and  win  eternal  Glory.  Methought  those  things  did  ravish 
my  heart ;  I  would  have  stayed  at  that  good  Mans  house  a  twelve- 
month, but  that  I  knew  I  had  further  to  go. 

Pi.  And  ivhat  saiv  you  else  in  the  ivay  ? 

Chr.  Saw!  Why  I  went  but  a  little  further,  and  I  saw  one,  as 
I  thought  in  my  mind,  hang  bleeding  upon  the  Tree ;  and  the  very 
sight  of  him  made  my  burden  fall  off  my  back  (for  I  groaned  under  a 
heavy  burden)  but  then  it  fell  down  from  off  me.  'Twas  a  strange 
thing  to  me,  for  I  never  saw  such  a  thing  before :  yea,  and  while  I 
stood  looking  up,  (for  then  I  could  not  forbear  looking)  three  shining 
ones  came  to  me:  one  of  them  testified  that  my  sins  were  forgiven 
me ;  another  stript  me  of  my  rags,  and  gave  me  this  broidered  Coat 
which  you  see;  and  the  third  set  the  mark  which  you  see,  in  my 
forehead,  and  gave  me  this  sealed  Roll  (and  with  that  he  plucked  it 
out  of  his  bosom.) 

Pi.   But  you  saiv  more  than  this,  did  you  not  ? 

50 


/ 


Chr.  The  things  that  I  have  told  you  were  the  best :  yet  some 
other  matters  I  saw,  as  namely  I  saw  three  Men,  Simple,  Sloth,  and 
Presumption,  lie  asleep  a  little  out  of  the  way  as  I  came,  with  Irons 
upon  their  heels ;  but  do  you  think  I  could  awake  them  ?  I  also  saw 
Formalist  and  Hypocrisy  come  tumbling  over  the  wall,  to  go,  as  they 
pretended,  to  Sion,  but  they  were  quickly  lost;  even  as  I  myself  did  tell 
them,  but  they  would  not  believe.  But,  above  all,  I  found  it  hard  work 
to  get  up  this  Hill,  and  as  hard  to  come  by  the  Lions  mouth;  and  truly 
if  it  had  not  been  for  the  good  Man,  the  Porter  that  stands  at  the  Gate, 
I  do  not  know  but  that,  after  all,  I  might  have  gone  back  again :  but 
now  I  thank  God  I  am  here,  and  I  thank  you  for  receiving  of  me. 

Then  Prudence  thought  good  to  ask  him  a  few  questions,  and  de- 
sired his  answer  to  them. 

Pru.  Do  you  not  think  sometimes  of  the  Country  from  'whence  you 
come} 

Chr.  Yes,  but  with  much  shame  and  detestation ;  Truly,  if  I  had 
been  mindful  of  that  Country  from  whence  I  came  out,  I  might  have 
had  opportunity  to  have  returned,  but  noJi)  I  desire  a  better  Country, 
that  is,  an  Heavenly. 

Pru.  Do  you  not  yet  bear  away  with  you  some  of  the  things  that 
then  you  'were  conversant  inithal} 

Chr.  Yes,  but  greatly  against  my  will ;  especially  my  inward  and 
carnal  cogitations ;  with  which  all  my  Country-men,  as  well  as  my- 
self, were  delighted;  but  now  all  those  things  are  my  grief:  and  might 
I  but  chuse  mine  own  things,  I  would  chuse  never  to  think  of  those 
things  more ;  but  when  I  would  be  doing  of  that  which  is  best,  that 
which  is  worst  is  with  me. 

Pru.  Do  you  not  find  sometimes,  as  if  those  things  were  van- 
quished, which  at  other  times  are  your  perplexity  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  but  that  is  but  seldom;  but  they  are  to  me  golden  hours, 
in  which  such  things  happen  to  me. 

Pru.  Can  you  remember  by  'what  means  you  find  your  annoyances 
at  times,  as  if  they  were  vanquished? 

Chr.  Yes,  when  I  think  what  I  saw  at  the  Cross,  that  will  do  it ; 
and  when  I  look  upon  my  broidercd  Coat,  that  will  do  it ;  also  when  I 
look  into  the  Roll  that  I  carry  in  my  bosom,  that  will  do  it ;  and  when 
my  thoughts  wax  warm  about  whither  I  am  going,  that  will  do  it. 


51 


Pru.  And  'what  is  it  that  makes  you  so  desirous  to  go  to  Mount 
Zion  ? 

Chr.  Why,  there  I  hope  to  see  him  alive,  that  did  hang  dead  on 
the  Cross ;  and  there  I  hope  to  be  rid  of  all  those  things,  that  to  this 
day  are  in  me  an  annoyance  to  me ;  there  they  say  there  is  no  death, 
and  there  I  shall  dwell  with  such  Company  as  I  like  best.  For  to  tell 
you  truth,  I  love  him,  because  I  was  by  him  eased  of  my  burden,  and 
I  am  weary  of  my  inward  sickness ;  I  would  fain  be  where  I  shall  die 
no  more,  and  with  the  Company  that  shall  continually  cry  Holy, 
Holy,  Holy. 

Then  said  Charity  to  Christian,  Hal>e  you  a  family}  are  you  a  mar- 
ried man  ? 

Chr.  I  have  a  Wife  and  four  small  Children. 

Cha.  And  ivhy  did  you  not  bring  them  along  with  you  ? 

Chr.  Then  Christian  wept,  and  said.  Oh  how  willingly  would  I 
have  done  it,  but  they  were  all  of  them  utterly  averse  to  my  going  on 
Pilgrimage. 

Cha.  But  you  should  have  talked  to  them,  and  have  endeavoured 
to  have  sh^ii>en  them  the  danger  of  being  behind. 

Chr.  So  I  did,  and  told  them  also  what  God  had  shewed  to  me  of 
the  destruction  of  our  City ;  but  I  seemed  to  them  as  one  that  mocked, 
and  they  believed  me  not. 

Cha.  And  did  you  pray  to  God  that  he  tt>ould  bless  your  counsel  to 
them  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  that  with  much  affection ;  for  you  must  think  that 
my  Wife  and  poor  Children  were  very  dear  unto  me. 

Cha.  But  did  you  tell  them  of  your  oivn  sorroJi),  and  fear  of  de- 
struction ?  for  I  suppose  that  destruction  ivas  visible  enough  to  you? 

Chr.  Yes,  over,  and  over,  and  over.  They  might  also  see  my 
fears  in  my  countenance,  in  my  tears,  and  also  in  my  trembling  under 
the  apprehension  of  the  Judgment  that  did  hang  over  our  heads ;  but 
all  was  not  sufficient  to  prevail  with  them  to  come  with  me. 

Cha.  But  ivhat  could  they  say  for  themselves  ivhy  they  came  not  ? 

Chr.  Why,  my  Wife  was  afraid  of  losing  this  World;  and  my 
Children  were  given  to  the  foolish  delights  of  youth :  so  what  by  one 
thing,  and  what  by  another,  they  left  me  to  wander  in  this  manner  alone. 

Cha.  But  did  you  not  'iifith  your  vain  life,  damp  all  that  you  by 
ivords  used  by  ivay  of  persivasion  to  bring  them  aivay  yt>ith  you  ? 


mMc 


The  name  of  the  Chamber  was  Peace. 


Chr.  Indeed  I 
cannot  commend 
my  life ;  for  I  am 
conscious  to  my- 
self of  many  fail- 
ings :  therein,  I 
know  also  that  a 
man  by  his  con- 
versation, may 
soon  overthrow 
what  by  argument 
or  perswasion  he 
doth  labour  to 
fasten  upon  others 

for  their  good :  Yet,  this  I  can  say,  I  was  very  wary  of  giving  them 
occasion,  by  any  unseemly  action,  to  make  them  averse  to  going  on  Pil- 
grimage. Yea,  for  this  very  thing,  they  would  tell  me  I  was  too  pre- 
cise, and  that  I  denied  myself  of  sins  (for  their  sakes)  in  which  they  saw 
no  evil.  Nay,  I  think  I  may  say,  that,  if  what  they  saw  in  me  did 
hinder  them,  it  was  my  great  tenderness  in  sinning  against  God,  or  of 
doing  any  wrong  to  my  Neighbor. 

Cha.  Indeed,  Cain  hated  his  Brother,  because  his  own  ti)orks  'were 
Mt,  and  his  Brother's  righteous;  and  if  thy  Wife  and  Children  ha1>e 
been  offended  ivith  thee  for  this,  they  thereby  she^w  themsell>es  to  be 
implacable  to  good;  and  thou  hast  delivered  thy  soul  from  their  blood. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  thus  they  sat  talking  together  until 
supper  was  ready.  So  when  they  had  made  ready,  they  sat  down  to 
meat ;  Now  the  Table  was  furnished  with  fat  things,  and  with  Wine 
that  was  well  refined ;  and  all  their  talk  at  the  Table,  was  about  the 
Lord  of  the  Hill :  As  namely,  about  what  HE  had  done,  and  where- 
fore HE  did  what  HE  did,  and  why  HE  had  builded  that  House:  and 
by  what  they  said,  I  perceived  that  HE  had  been  a  great  Warrior,  and 
had  fought  with  and  slain  him  that  had  the  power  of  Death,  but  not 
without  great  danger  to  himself,  which  made  me  love  him  the  more. 

For,  as  they  said,  and  as  I  believe  (said  Christian)  he  did  it  with  the 
loss  of  much  blood ;  but  that  which  put  Glory  of  Grace  into  all  he  did, 
was,  that  he  did  it  of  pure  love  to  his  Country.  And  besides,  there 
were  some  of  them  of  the  Household  that  said  they  had  seen  and 

53 


mm 


spoke  with  him  since  he  did  die  on  the  Cross ;  and  they  have  attested, 
that  they  had  it  from  his  own  lips,  that  he  is  such  a  lover  of  poor  Pil- 
grims, that  the  like  is  not  to  be  found  from  the  East  to  the  West. 

They  moreover  gave  an  instance  of  what  they  affirmed,  and  that 
was,  He  had  stript  himself  of  his  glory  that  he  might  do  this  for  the 
Poor ;  and  that  they  heard  him  say  and  affirm.  That  he  would  not 
dwell  in  the  Mountain  of  Zion  alone.  They  said  moreover,  That  he 
had  made  many  Pilgrims  Princes,  though  by  nature  they  were  Beg- 
gars born,  and  their  original  had  been  the  Dunghil. 

Thus  they  discoursed  together  till  late  at  night,  and  after  they  had 
committed  themselves  to  their  Lord  for  Protection,  they  betook  them- 
selves to  rest.  The  Pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large  upper  Chamber, 
whose  window  opened  towards  the  Sunrising;  the  name  of  the  Cham- 
ber was  Peace,  where  he  slept  till  break  of  day;  and  then  he  awoke 
and  sang. 

Where  am  I  noiv  !  is  this  the  io'be  and  care 
Of  Jesus  for  the  men  that  Pilgrims  are  I 
Thus  to  provide  I    That  I  should  he  forgit^en  ! 
And  dwell  already  the  next  door  to  Heaven  I 

So  in  the  Morning  they  all  got  up,  and  after  some  more  discourse, 
they  told  him  that  he  should  not  depart,  till  they  had  shewed  him  the 
Rarities  of  that  place.  And  first  they  had  him  into  the  Study,  where 
they  shewed  him  Records  of  the  greatest  Antiquity;  in  which,  as  I 
remember  my  Dream,  they  shewed  him  first  the  Pedigree  of  the  Lord 
of  the  Hill,  that  he  was  the  Son  of  the  Ancient  of  Days,  and  came  by 
an  eternal  Generation.  Here  also  was  more  fully  recorded  the  Acts 
that  he  had  done,  and  the  names  of  many  hundreds  that  he  had  taken 
into  his  service ;  and  how  he  had  placed  them  in  such  Habitations  that 
could  neither  by  length  of  Days,  nor  decays  of  Nature,  be  dissolved. 

Then  they  read  to  him  some  of  the  worthy  Acts  that  some  of  his 
Servants  had  done.  As  how  they  had  subdued  Kingdoms,  wrought 
Righteousness,  obtained  Promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  Lions, 
quenched  the  violence  of  Fire,  escaped  the  edge  of  the  Sword;  out 
of  weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  and  turned 
to  flight  the  Armies  of  the  Aliens. 

Then  they  read  again  in  another  part  of  the  Records  of  the  House, 

54 


6jte 


<-^.^ 
^•|<l 


irt'C 


where  it  was  shewed  how  willing  their  Lord  was  to  receive  into  his 
favour  any,  even  any,  though  they  in  time  past  had  offered  great 
affronts  to  his  Person  and  proceedings.  Here  also  were  several  other 
Histories  of  many  other  famous  things,  of  all  which  Christian  had 
a  view.  As  of  things  both  Ancient  and  Modern;  together  with 
Prophecies  and  Predictions  of  things  that  have  their  certain  accom- 
plishment, both  to  the  dread  and  amazement  of  enemies,  and  the  com- 
fort and  solace  of  Pilgrims. 

The  next  day  they  took  him  and  had  him  into  the  Armory ;  where 
they  shewed  him  all  manner  of  Furniture,  which  their  Lord  had  pro- 
vided for  Pilgrims,  as  Sword,  Shield,  Helmet,  Breast  plate.  All  Prayer, 
and  Shoes  that  would  not  wear  out.  And  there  was  here  enough 
of  this  to  harness  out  as  many  men  for  the  service  of  their  Lord, 
as  there  be  Stars  in  the  Heaven  for  multitude. 

They  also  shewed  him  some  of  the  Engines  with  which  some  of 
his  Servants  had  done  wonderful  things.  They  shewed  him  Moses's 
Rod,  the  Hammer  and  Nail  with  which  Jael  slew  Sisera,  the  Pitchers, 
Trumpets,  and  Lamps  too,  with  which  Gideon  put  to  flight  the 
Armies  of  Midian,  Then  they  shewed  him  the  Ox's  goad  wherewith 
Shangar  slew  six  hundred  men.  They  shewed  him  also  the  Jaw 
bone  with  which  Samson  did  such  mighty  feats ;  they  shewed  him 
moreover  the  Sling  and  Stone  with  which  David  slew  Goliah  of  Gath : 
and  the  Sword  also  with  which  their  Lord  will  kill  the  Man  of  Sin,  in 
the  day  that  he  shall  rise  up  to  the  prey.  They  shewed  him  besides 
many  excellent  things,  with  which  Christian  was  much  delighted. 
This  done,  they  went  to  their  rest  again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  on  the  morrow  he  got  up  to  go  for- 
wards, but  they  desired  him  to  stay  till  the  next  day  also,  and  then 
said  they,  we  will,  (if  the  day  be  dear,)  shew  you  the  delectable 
Mountains,  which  they  said,  would  yet  further  add  to  his  comfort, 
because  they  were  nearer  the  desired  Haven  than  the  place  where 
at  present  he  was.  So  he  consented  and  staid.  When  the  Morning 
was  up  they  had  him  to  the  top  of  the  House,  and  bid  him  look  South, 
so  he  did;  and  behold  at  a  great  distance  he  saw  a  most  pleasant 
Mountainous  Country,  beautified  with  Woods,  Vineyards,  Fruits  of  all 
sorts;  Flowers  also,  with  Springs  and  Fountains,  very  delectable  to  be- 
hold. Then  he  asked  the  name  of  the  Country,  they  said  it  was  Immanuels 


."iO 


;  m 


T^J. 


5i"\i 


Land ;  and  it  is  as  com- 
mon, said  they,  as  this  Hill 
is,  to  and  for  all  the  Pil- 
grims. And  when  thou 
comest  there,  from  thence, 
said  they,  thou  mayest  see 
to  the  Gate  of  the  Ccelestial 
City,  as  the  Shepherds  that 
live  there  will  make  appear. 

Now  he  bethought  him- 
self of  setting  forward,  and 
they  were  willing  he  should: 
but  first,  said  they,  let  us  go 
again  into  the  Armory.  So 
they  did;  and  when  he  came 
there,  they  harnessed  him 
from  head  to  foot  with  what 
was  of  proof,  lest  perhaps  he 
should  meet  with  assaults 
in  the  way.  He  being  there- 
fore thus  accoutred  walketh 
out  with  his  friends  to  the 
Gate,  and  there  he  asked 
the  Porter  if  he  saw  any 
Pilgrims  pass  by.  Then  the 
Porter  answered.  Yes. 

Chr.  Pray  did  you  know 
him  ?  said  he. 

PoR.   I  asked  his  name,  and  he  told  me  it  was  Faithful. 

Chr.  O,  said  Christian,  I  know  him,  he  is  my  Townsman,  my 
near  Neighbor,  he  comes  from  the  place  where  I  was  born :  how  far 
do  you  think  he  may  be  before  ? 

PoR.   He  is  got  by  this  time  below  the  Hill. 

Chr.  Well,  said  Christian,  good  Porter,  the  Lord  be  with  thee,  and 
add  to  all  thy  blessings  much  increase,  for  the  kindness  that  thou  hast 
shewed  to  me. 

Then  he  began  to  go  forward,  but  Discretion,  Piety,  Charity,  and 


They  had  him  to  the  top  of  the  House,  and  bid  him  look 
South,  so  he  did ;  and  behold  at  a  great  distance  he  saw  a 
most  pleasant  Mountainous  Country. 


They  harnessed  him  from  head  to  foot  with  what  was  of  proof,  lest  perhaps  he  should  meet  with  assaults  in  the  way. 


Prudence,  would  accompany  him  down  to  the  foot  of  the  Hill.  So 
they  went  on  together,  reiterating  their  former  discourses  till  they 
came  to  go  down  the  Hill.  Then  said  Christian,  As  it  was  difficult 
coming  up,  so  (so  far  as  I  can  see)  it  is  dangerous  going  down.  Yes, 
said  Prudence,  so  it  is ;  for  it  is  an  hard  matter  for  a  man  to  go  down 
into  the  valley  of  Humiliation,  as  thou  art  now,  and  to  catch  no  slip 
by  the  way ;  therefore,  said  they,  are  we  come  out  to  accompany  thee 
down  the  Hill.  So  he  began  to  go  down,  but  very  warily,  yet  he 
caught  a  slip  or  too. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  these  good  Companions,  (when 
Christian  was  gone  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  Hill,)  gave  him  a  loaf 
of  Bread,  a  bottle  of  Wine,  and  a  cluster  of  Raisins;  and  then  he  went 
on  his  way. 

But  now  in  this  Valley  of  Humiliation  poor  Christian  was  hard  put 
to  it,  for  he  had  gone  but  a  little  way  before  he  espied  a  foul  Fiend 
coming  over  the  field  to  meet  him ;  his  name  is  Apollyon.  Then  did 
Christian  begin  to  be  afraid,  and  to  cast  in  his  mind  whether  to  go 
back,  or  to  stand  his  ground.  But  he  considered  again,  that  he  had  no 
Armor  for  his  back,  and  therefore  thought  that  to  turn  the  back  to 
him  might  give  him  greater  advantage  with  ease  to  pierce  him  with 
his  Darts;  therefore  he  resolved  to  venture,  and  stand  his  ground. 
For  thought  he,  had  I  no  more  in  mine  eye  than  the  saving  of  my  life, 
'twould  be  the  best  way  to  stand. 

So  he  went  on,  and  c/lpollyon  met  him.  Now  the  Monster  was 
hideous  to  behold,  he  was  cloathed  with  scales  like  a  Fish  (and 
they  are  his  pride)  he  had  Wings  like  a  Dragon,  feet  like  a  Bear, 
and  out  of  his  belly  came  Fire  and  Smoke,  and  his  mouth  was  as 
the  mouth  of  a  Lion.  When  he  was  come  up  to  Christian,  he  be- 
held him  with  a  disdainful  countenance,  and  thus  began  to  question 
with  him. 

Apol.    Whence  come  you,  and  ti)hither  are  you  bound  ? 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  City  of  Destruction,  which  is  the  place  of 
all  evil,  and  am  going  to  the  City  of  Zion. 

Apol,  By  this  I  perceive  thou  art  one  of  my  Subjects,  for  all  that 
Country  is  mine;  and  I  am  the  Prince  and  God  of  it.  Hoiv  is  it  then 
that  thou  hast  ran  aivay  from  thy  King  ?     Were  it  not  that  I  hope 

59 


y^ 


thou  mayest  do  me  more  se/hice,  I  ivould  strike  thee  noiv  at  one  blow 
to  the  ground. 

Chr.  I  was  born  indeed  in  your  Dominions,  but  your  service  was 
hard,  and  your  wages  such  as  a  man  could  not  live  on,  for  the  ivages 
of  Sin  is  death  ;  therefore  when  I  was  come  to  years,  I  did  as  other 
considerate  persons  do,  look  out  if  perhaps  I  might  mend  my  self. 

Apol.  There  is  no  Prince  that  7t>ill  thus  lightly  lose  his  Subjects, 
neither  ivill  I  as  yet  lose  thee.  But  since  thou  complainest  of  thy 
service  and  'ivages  be  content  to  go  back  ;  <what  our  Country  ivill 
afford,  I  do  here  promise  to  give  thee. 

Chr.  But  I  have  let  myself  to  another,  even  to  the  King  of  Princes, 
and  how  can  I  with  fairness  go  back  with  thee  ? 

Apol.  Thou  hast  done  in  this,  according  to  the  Prol^erb,  changed  a 
bad  for  a  ivorse :  but  it  is  ordinary  for  those  that  ha'be  professed 
themselves  his  Serl^ants,  after  a  ivhile  to  gi'be  him  the  slip,  and  return 
again  to  me :  do  thou  so  to,  and  all  shall  be  ivell. 

Chr.  I  have  given  him  my  faith,  and  sworn  my  Allegiance  to  him; 
how  then  can  I  go  back  from  this,  and  not  be  hanged  as  a  Traitor  ? 

Apol.  Thou  didst  the  same  to  me,  and  yet  I  am  ivilling  to  pass 
by  all,  if  now  thou  'ibilt  yet  turn  again,  and  go  back. 

Chr.  What  I  promised  thee  was  in  my  nonage;  and  besides,  I 
count  that  the  Prince  under  whose  Banner  now  I  stand,  is  able  to 
absolve  me ;  yea,  and  to  pardon  also  what  I  did  as  to  my  compliance 
with  thee :  and  besides,  (O  thou  destroying  Apollyon)  to  speak  truth, 
I  like  his  Service,  his  Wages,  his  Servants,  his  Government,  his  Com- 
pany, and  Country  better  than  thine:  and  therefore  leave  off  to  per- 
swade  me  further,  I  am  his  Servant,  and  I  will  follow  him. 

Apol.  Consider  again  -when  thou  art  in  cool  blood,  Uyhat  thou  art 
like  to  meet  ivith  in  the  ivay  that  thou  goest.  Thou  knoivest  that  for 
the  most  part,  his  Servants  come  to  an  ill  end,  because  they  are  trans- 
gressors against  me,  and  my  'ways.  Hoiv  many  of  them  have  been 
put  to  shameful  deaths!  and  besides,  thou  countest  his  service  better 
than  mine,  "whereas  he  never  came  yet  from  the  place  ivhere  he  is,  to 
deliver  any  that  served  him  out  of  our  hands ;  but  as  for  me,  hoiv 
many  times,  as  all  the  World  very  ivell  knoivs,  have  I  delivered, 
either  by  poiver  or  fraud,  those  that  have  faithfully  served  me,  from 
him  and  his,  though  taken  by  them,  and  so  I  ivill  deliver  thee. 

Chr.   His  forbearing  at  present  to  deliver  them,  is  on  purpose  to  try 


0©' 


I®. 


I® 


I® 


60 


.© 


'm 


(S), 


^. 


'©0 


®: 


®^ 


their  love,  whether  they  will  cleave  to  him  to  the  end :  and  as  for  the 
ill  end  thou  sayest  they  come  to,  that  is  most  glorious  in  their  account. 
For  for  present  deliverance,  they  do  not  much  expect  it;  for  they  stay 
for  their  Glory,  and  then  they  shall  have  it,  when  their  Prince  comes 
in  his,  and  the  Glory  of  the  Angels. 

Apol.  Thou  fidst  already  been  unfaithful  in  thy  service  to  him,  and 
how  doest  thou  think  to  receive  "wages  of  him  ? 

Chr.   Wherein,  O  Apollyon,  have  I  been  unfaithful  to  him  ? 

Apol.  Thou  didst  faint  at  first  setting  out,  luhen  thou  wast  almost 
choked  in  the  Gulf  of  Dispond ;  thou  didst  attempt  wrong  ivays  to  be 
rid  of  thy  burden,  whereas  thou  shouldest  have  stayed  till  thy  Prince 
had  taken  it  off:  thou  didst  sinfully  sleep  and  lose  thy  choice  thing: 
thou  wast  also  almost  perswaded  logo  back,  at  the  sight  of  the  Lions; 
and  ivhen  thou  talkest  of  thy  Journey,  and  of  what  thou  hast  heard, 
and  seen,  thou  art  iniuardly  desirous  of  Ifain-glory  in  all  that  thou 
sayest  or  doest. 

Chr.  All  this  is  true,  and  much  more,  which  thou  hast  left  out ; 
but  the  Prince  whom  I  serve  and  honour,  is  merciful,  and  ready  to 
forgive:  but  besides,  these  infirmities  possessed  me  in  thy  Country, 
for  there  I  suckt  them  in,  and  I  have  groaned  under  them,  been  sorry 
for  them,  and  have  obtained  pardon  of  my  Prince. 

Apol.  Then  Apollyon  broke  out  into  a  grievous  rage,  saying,  I  am 
an  Enemy  to  this  Prince :  I  hate  his  Person,  his  LaTbs,  and  People :  1 
am  come  out  on  purpose  to  Ji^ithstand  thee. 

Chr.  Apollyon  beware  what  you  do,  for  I  am  in  the  King's  High- 
way, the  way  of  Holiness,  therefore  take  heed  to  yourself. 

Apol.  Then  Apollyon  straddled  quite  over  the  whole  breadth  of  the 
way,  and  said,  I  am  void  of  fear  in  this  matter,  prepare  thyself  to  die, 
for  I  swear  by  my  Infernal  Den,  that  thou  shaft  go  no  further,  here 
will  I  spill  thy  soul ;  and  with  that,  he  threw  a  flaming  Dart  at  his 
breast,  but  Christian  had  a  Shield  in  his  hand,  with  which  he  caught 
it,  and  so  prevented  the  danger  of  that.  Then  did  Christian  draw,  for 
he  saw  'twas  time  to  bestir  him ;  and  Apollyon  as  fast  made  at  him, 
throwing  Darts  as  thick  as  Hail ;  by  the  which,  notwithstanding  all 
that  Christian  could  do  to  avoid  it,  Apollyon  wounded  him  in  his 
head,  his  hand  and  foot ;  this  made  Christian  give  a  little  back : 
c4pollyon  therefore  followed  his  work  amain,  and  Christian  again 
took  courage,  and  resisted  as  manfully  as  he  could.     This  sore  com- 

01 


bat  lasted  for  above  half  a  day,  even  till  Christian  was  almost  quite 
spent.  For  you  must  know  that  Christian  by  reason  of  his  wounds, 
must  needs  grow  weaker  and  weaker. 

Then  Apollyon  espying  his  opportunity,  began  to  gather  up  close 
to  Christian,  and  wrestling  with  him,  gave  him  a  dreadful  fall ;  and 
with  that,  Christian's  Sword  flew  out  of  his  hand.  Then  said 
Apollyon,  I  am  sure  of  thee  noiv ;  and  with  that,  he  had  almost 
prest  him  to  death,  so  that  Christian  began  to  despair  of  life.  But 
as  God  would  have  it,  while  Apollyon  was  fetching  of  his  last  blow, 
thereby  to  make  a  full  end  of  this  good  Man,  Christian  nimbly  reached 
out  his  hand  for  his  Sword,  and  caught  it,  saying.  Rejoice  not  against 
me,  O  mine  Enemy  I  'when  I  fall,  I  shall  arise;  and  with  that,  gave 
him  a  deadly  thrust,  which  made  him  give  back,  as  one  that  had  re- 
ceived his  mortal  wound:  Christian  perceiving  that,  made  at  him 
again,  saying,  Nay,  in  all  these  things  lue  are  more  than  Conquerors, 
through  him  that  loved  us.  And  with  that,  Apollyon  spread  forth  his 
Dragon's  wings,  and  sped  him  away,  that  Christian  saw  him  no  more. 

In  this  Combat  no  man  can  imagine,  unless  he  had  seen  and  heard 
as  I  did,  what  yelling,  and  hideous  roaring  Apollyon  made  all  the  time 
of  the  fight,  he  spake  like  a  Dragon :  and  on  the  other  side,  what  sighs 
and  groans  brast  from  Christian's  heart.  I  never  saw  him  all  the 
while  give  so  much  as  one  pleasant  look,  till  he  perceived  he  had 
wounded  Apollyon  with  his  two  edged  Sword,  then  indeed  he  did 
smile,  and  look  upward :  but  'twas  the  dreadfullest  sight  that  ever  I 
saw. 

So  when  the  Battle  was  over.  Christian  said,  I  will  here  give  thanks 
to  him  that  hath  delivered  me  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Lion ;  to  him 
that  did  help  me  against  c4pollyon :  and  so  he  did,  saying. 

Great  Beelzebub,  the.  Captain  of  this  Fiend, 
Design  'd  my  ruin  ;  therefore  to  this  end 
He  sent  him  harnest  out,  and  he  ivith  rage 
That  Hellish  ivas,  did  fiercely  me  engage : 
But  blessed  Michael  helped  me,  and  I 
By  dint  of  Sit^ord,  did  quickly  make  him  fly  : 
Therefore  to  him  let  me  give  lasting  praise. 
And  thank  and  bless  his  holy  name  alivays. 


Rejoice  not  against  me,  O  mine  Enemy !  when  I  fall,  I  shall  arise. 


3) 


Then  there  came  to  him  an  hand,  with  some  of  the  leaves  of  the  Tree  of  Life. 

Then  there  came  to  him  an  hand,  with  some  of  the  leaves  of  the 
Tree  of  Life,  the  which  Christian  took,  and  applied  to  the  wounds 
that  he  had  received  in  the  Battle,  and  was  healed  immediately. 
He  also  sat  down  in  that  place  to  eat  Bread,  and  to  drink  of  the 
Bottle  that  was  given  him  a  little  before;  so  being  refreshed,  he 
addressed  himself  to  his  Journey,  with  his  Sword  drawn  in  his  hand, 
for  he  said,  I  know  not  but  some  other  Enemy  may  be  at  hand. 
But  he  met  with  no  other  affront  from  c4pollyon,  quite  through  this 
Valley. 

Now  at  the  end  of  this  Valley,  was  another,  called  the  Valley  of  the 
Shddoiv  of  Dea.th,  and  Christian  must  needs  go  through  it,  because 
the  way  to  the  Coelestial  City  lay  through  the  midst  of  it.  Now  this 
Valley  is  a  very  solitary  place.  The  Prophet  Jeremiah  thus  describes 
it,  <A  Wilderness,  a  Land  of  Desarts,  and  of  Pits,  a  Land  of  Drought, 
and  of  the  shadoiv  of  death,  a  Land  that  no  man  (but  a  Christian) 
passeth  through,  and  ivhere  no  man  dwelt. 

Now  here  Christian  was  worse  put  to  it  than  in  his  fight  with 
c/lpollyon,  as  by  the  sequel  you  shall  see. 

I  saw  then  in  my  Dream,  that  when  Christian  was  got  to  the 

0-4 


mm 


m^ 


m 


^ifif 


m 


^j^^-fii 


Borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  there  met  him  two  Men,  Children 
of  them  that  brought  up  an  evil  report  of  the  good  Land,  making  haste 
to  go  back :  to  whom  Christian  spake  as  follows, 

Chr.    Whither  are  you  going  ? 

Men.   They  said.  Back,  back ;  and  we  would  have  you  to  do  so 
too,  if  either  life  or  peace  is  prized  by  you. 

Chr.    Why?  ivhat's  the  matter  ?  saic/ Christian. 

Men.  Matter !  said  they ;  we  were  going  that  way  as  you  are 
going,  and  went  as  far  as  we  durst;  and  indeed  we  were  almost 
past  [  coming  back,  for  had  we  gone  a  little  further,  we  had  not 
been  here  to  bring  the  news 
to  thee. 

Chr.  Bat  <what  have  you 
met  ivith,  said  Christian  ? 

Men.  Why  we  were  almost 
in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death,  but  that  by  good 
hap  we  looked  before  us,  and 
saw  the  danger  before  we 
came  to  it. 

Chr,  But  'what  have  you 
seen,  5af(/ Christian  ? 

Men.  Seen !  why  the  Val- 
ley itself,  which  is  as  dark  as 
pitch ;  we  also  saw  there  the 
Hobgoblins,  Satyrs,  and  Drag- 
ons of  the  Pit :  we  heard  also 
in  that  Valley  a  continual 
howling  and  yelling,  as  of  a 
People  under  unutterable  mis- 
ery, who  there  sat  bound  in 
affliction  and  Irons :  and  over 
that  Valley  hangs  the  dis- 
couraging Clouds  of  confu-  ca^^^i^^ewr-.,r-c^^-.  -im^^sm^-a a 
sion;  death  also  doth  always 


"-^^d 


-5^==  ^^ji,^'. — ^^ 


--.\  ■ 


'<ii     V 


X  .^-» 


A 


^'^^^i 


They  said.  Back,  back. 


^^ 


65 


)  *:'»:*"is'#<: 


:v'.iV;-.'.'.. 


spread  his  wings  over  it:  in  a  word,  it  is  every  whit  dreadful,  being 
utterly  without  Order. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  /  perceive  not  yet,  by  ivhat  you  have 
said,  but  that  this  is  my  tt>ay  to  the  desired  Haven. 

Men.  Be  it  thy  way,  we  will  not  chuse  it  for  ours.  So  they  parted, 
and  Christian  went  on  his  way,  but  still  with  his  Sword  drawn  in  his 
hand,  for  fear  lest  he  should  be  assaulted. 

I  saw  then  in  my  Dream,  so  far  as  this  Valley  reached,  there  was 
on  the  right  hand  a  very  deep  Ditch ;  that  Ditch  is  it  into  which  the 
blind  have  led  the  blind  in  all  Ages,  and  have  both  there  miserably 
perished.  Again,  behold  on  the  left  hand,  there  was  a  very  dangerous 
Quag,  into  which,  if  even  a  good  man  falls,  he  can  find  no  bottom  for 
his  foot  to  stand  on.  Into  that  Quag  King  David  once  did  fait,  and 
had  no  doubt  therein  been  smothered,  had  not  He  that  is  able,  pluckt 
him  out. 

The  path-way  was  here  also  exceeding  narrow,  and  therefore  good 
Christian  was  the  more  put  to  it ;  for  when  he  sought  in  the  dark  to 
shun  the  ditch  on  the  one  hand,  he  was  ready  to  tip  over  into  the  mire 
on  the  other ;  also  when  he  sought  to  escape  the  mire,  without  great 
carefulness  he  would  be  ready  to  fall  into  the  ditch.  Thus  he  went 
on,  and  I  heard  him  here  sigh  bitterly :  for  besides  the  dangers  men- 
tioned above,  the  pathway  was  here  so  dark,  that  ofttimes  when  he 
lift  up  his  foot  to  set  forward,  he  knew  not  where,  or  upon  what  he 
should  set  it  next. 

About  the  midst  of  this  Valley,  I  perceived  the  mouth  of  Hell  to  be, 
and  it  stood  also  hard  by  the  wayside :  Now  thought  Christian,  what 
shall  I  do  ?  And  ever  and  anon  the  flame  and  smoke  would  come  out 
in  such  abundance,  with  sparks  and  hideous  noises,  (things  that  cared 
not  for  Christians  Sword,  as  did  Apollyon  before)  that  he  was  forced 
to  put  up  his  Sword,  and  betake  himself  to  another  weapon  called  c/lll- 
Prayer,  so  he  cried  in  my  hearing,  O  Lord  I  beseech  thee  deliver  my 
Soul.  Thus  he  went  on  a  great  while,  yet  still  the  flames  would  be 
reaching  towards  him:  also  he  heard  doleful  voices,  and  rushings 
to  and  fro,  so  that  sometimes  he  thought  he  should  be  torn  in  pieces, 
or  trodden  down  like  mire  in  the  Streets.  This  frightful  sight 
was  seen,  and  these  dreadful  noises  were  heard  by  him  for  several 
miles  together :  and  coming  to  a  place,  where  he  thought  he  heard  a 

66 


11 


',■•"}■: 


'/V^/'W 


About  the  midst  of  this  Valley,  I  perceived  the  mouth  of  Hell  to  be. 


company  of  Fiends  coming  forward  to  meet  him,  tie  stopt,  and  began 
to  muse  what  he  had  best  to  do.  Sometimes  he  had  half  a  thought  to 
go  back.  Then  again  he  thought  he  might  be  half  way  through  the 
Valley ;  he  remembred  also  how  he  had  already  vanquished  many  a 
danger :  and  that  the  danger  of  going  back  might  be  much  more  than 
for  to  go  forward ;  so  he  resolved  to  go  on.  Yet  the  Fiends  seemed 
to  come  nearer  and  nearer ;  but  when  they  were  come  even  almost  at 
him,  he  cried  out  with  a  most  vehement  voice,  /  'will  'walk  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord  God ;  so  they  gave  back,  and  came  no  further. 

One  thing  I  would  not  let  slip,  I  took  notice  that  now  poor  Christian 
was  so  confounded,  that  he  did  not  know  his  own  voice ;  and  thus  I 
perceived  it.    Just  when  he  was  come  over  against  the  mouth  of  the 

burning  Pit,  one  of  the  wicked  ones 
got  behind  him,  and  stept  up  softly 
to  him,  and  whisperingly  suggested 
many  grievous  blasphemies  to  him, 
which  he  verily  thought  had  pro- 
ceeded from  his  own  mind.  This 
put  Christian  more  to  it  than  any- 
thing that  he  met  with  before,  even 
to  think  that  he  should  now  blas- 
pheme him  that  he  loved  so  much 
before;  yet  could  he  have  helped 
it,  he  would  not  have  done  it :  but 
he  had  not  the  discretion  neither 
to  stop  his  ears,  nor  to  know  from 
whence  those  blasphemies  came.' 

When  Christian  had  travelled  in 
this  disconsolate  condition  some 
considerable  time,  he  thought  he 
heard  the  voice  of  a  man,  as  going 
before  him,  saying.  Though  I 'walk 
through  the  valley  of  the  shado'w 
of  death,  I  'will  fear  none  ill,  for 
thou  art  'with  me. 

Then  was  he  glad,  and  that  for 
these  reasons : 


First,  Because  he  gathered  from  thence  that  some  who  feared  God 
were  in  this  Valley  as  well  as  himself. 

Secondly,  For  that  he  perceived  God  was  with  them,  though  in  that 
dark  and  dismal  state ;  and  why  not,  thought  he,  with  me  ?  though  by 
reason  of  the  impediment  that  attends  this  place,  I  cannot  perceive  it. 

Thirdly,  For  that  he  hoped  (could  he  overtake  them)  to  have  com- 
pany by  and  by.  So  he  went  on,  and  called  to  him  that  was  before, 
but  he  knew  not  what  to  answer,  for  that  he  also  thought  himself  to 
be  alone.  And  by  and  by,  the  day  broke :  then  said  Christian,  He 
hath  turned  the  shadoiv  of  death  into  the  morning. 

Now  morning  being  come,  he  looked  back,  not  of  desire  to  return, 
but  to  see,  by  the  light  of  the  day,  what  hazards  he  had  gone  through 
in  the  dark.  So  he  saw  more  perfectly  the  Ditch  that  was  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  Quag  that  was  on  the  other ;  also  how  narrow  the  way 
was  which  lay  betwixt  them  both ;  also  now  he  saw  the  Hobgoblins, 
and  Satyrs,  and  Dragons  of  the  Pit,  but  all  afar  off ;  for  after  break  of 
day,  they  came  not  nigh ;  yet  they  were  discovered  to  him,  according 
to  that  which  is  written.  He  discol^creth  deep  things  oat  of  darkness, 
and  bringeth  out  to  light  the  shadoiv  of  death. 

Now  was  Christian  much  affected  with  his  deliverance  from  all  the 
dangers  of  his  solitary  way,  which  dangers,  though  he  feared  them 
more  before,  yet  he  saw  them  more  clearly  now,  because  the  light  of 
the  day  made  them  conspicuous  to  him.  And  about  this  time  the  Sun 
was  rising,  and  this  was  another  mercy  to  Christian  :  for  you  must 


d 


69 


I  espied  a  little  before  me  a  Cave,  where  two  Giants,  Pope  and  Pagan,  dwelt. 


note,  that  though  the  first  part  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  death 
was  dangerous,  yet  this  second  part  which  he  was  yet  to  go,  was,  if 
possible,  far  more  dangerous :  for  from  the  place  where  he  now  stood, 
even  to  the  end  of  the  Valley,  the  way  was  all  along  set  so  full  of 
Snares,  Traps,  Gins,  and  Nets  here,  and  so  full  of  Pits,  Pitfalls,  deep 
Holes  and  Shelvings  down  there,  that  had  it  now  been  dark,  as  it  was 
when  he  came  the  first  part  of  the  way,  had  he  had  a  thousand  souls, 
they  had  in  reason  been  cast  away ;  but  as  I  said,  just  now  the  Sun 
was  rising.  Then  said  he.  His  candle  shineth  on  my  head,  and  by  his 
light  I  go  through  darkness. 

In  this  light  therefore  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  Valley.  Now  I  saw 
in  my  Dream,  that  at  the  end  of  this  Valley  lay  blood,  bones,  ashes, 
and  mangled  bodies  of  men,  even  of  Pilgrims  that  had  gone  this  way  for- 
merly :  And  while  I  was  musing  what  should  be  the  reason,  I  espied  a 
little  before  me  a  Cave,  where  two  Giants,  Pope  and  Pagan,  dwelt  in 
old  time,  by  whose  Power  and  Tyranny  the  Men  whose  bones,  blood, 
ashes,  &c.  lay  there,  were  cruelly  put  to  death.  But  by  this  place 
Christian  went  without  much  danger,  whereat  I  somewhat  wondered ; 
but  I  have  learnt  since,  that  Pagan  has  been  dead  many  a  day ;  and 
as  for  the  other,  though  he  be  yet  alive,  he  is  by  reason  of  age,  and 
also  of  the  many  shrewd  brushes  that  he  met  with  in  his  younger  days, 
grown  so  crazy,  and  stiff  in  his  joints,  that  he  can  now  do  little  more 
than  sit  in  his  Cave's  mouth,  grinning  at  Pilgrims  as  they  go  by,  and 
biting  his  nails,  because  he  cannot  come  at  them. 

So  I  saw  that  Christian  went  on  his  way,  yet  at  the  sight  of  the  old 
Man,  that  sat  in  the  mouth  of  the  Cave,  he  could  not  tell  what  to  think, 
specially  because  he  spake  to  him,  though  he  could  not  go  after  him ; 
saying.  You  ivill  never  mend,  till  more  of  you  be  burned:  but  he  held 
his  peace,  and  set  a  good  face  on't,  and  so  went  by,  and  catcht  no  hurt. 
Then  sang  Christian, 

O  'world  of  ivonders  !  (I  can  say  no  less) 
That  I  should  be  preserv'd  in  that  distress 
That  I  have  met  ivith  here  !     O  blessed  be 
That  hand  that  from  it  hath  delivered  me! 
Dangers  in  darkness,  Devils,  Hell,  and  Sin, 
Did  compass  me,  while  I  this  Vale  was  in : 

71 


0 


He  suddenly  stumbled  and  fell,  and  could  not  rise  again,  until  Faithful  came  up  to  help  him. 

Yea,  Snares,  and  Pits,  and  Traps,  and  Nets  did  lie 
My  path  about,  that  ivorthless  silly  I 
Might  have  been  catch' t,  intangled,  and  cast  down : 
But  since  I  live,  let  Jesus  wear  the  Crown. 

Now  as  Christian  went  on  his  way,  he  came  to  a  little  ascent,  which 
was  cast  up  on  purpose  that  Pilgrims  might  see  before  them :  up  there 
therefore  Christian  went,  and  looking  forward  he  saw  Faithful  before 
him,  upon  his  Journey.  Then  said  Christian  aloud.  Ho,  ho,  So-ho ; 
stay  and  I  will  be  your  Companion.  At  that  Faithful  looked  behind 
him,  to  whom  Christian  cried  again,  Stay,  stay,  till  I  come  up  to  you. 
But  Faithful  answered.  No,  I  am  upon  my  life,  and  the  Avenger  of 
Blood  is  behind  me.  At  this  Christian  was  somewhat  moved,  and 
putting  to  all  his  strength,  he  quickly  got  up  with  Faithful,  and  did 
also  overrun  him,  so  the  last  was  first.  Then  did  Christian  vain- 
gloriously  smile,  because  he  had  gotten  the  start  of  his  Brother :  but 
not  taking  good  heed  to  his  feet,  he  suddenly  stumbled  and  fell,  and 
could  not  rise  again,  until  Faithful  came  up  to  help  him. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  they  went  very  lovingly  on  together; 


_, 


>fc 


^ 


,e, 


\'/i. 


u  -^i 


>^i 


(o^t 


l-si^ 


t^d 


and  had  sweet  discourse  of  all  things  that  had  happened  to  them  in 
their  Pilgrimage ;  and  thus  Christian  began. 

Chr.  ^y  honoured  and  ivell  beloved  Brother  Faithful,  I  am  glad 
that  I  ha'be  overtaken  you  ;  and  that  God  has  so  tempered  our  spirits, 
that  ive  can  ivalk  as  Companions  in  this  so  pleasant  a  path. 

Faith.  I  had  thought  dear  friend,  to  have  had  your  company  quite 
from  our  Town,  but  you  did  get  the  start  of  me ;  wherefore  I  was 
forced  to  come  thus  much  of  the  way  alone. 

Chr.  Hoiv  long  did  you  stay  in  the  City  of  Destruction,  before  you 
set  out  after  me  on  your  Pilgrimage  ? 

Faith.  Till  I  could  stay  no  longer ;  for  there  was  great  talk  pres- 
ently after  you  was  gone  out,  that  our  City  would  in  short  time  with 
Fire  from  Heaven  be  burned  down  to  the  ground. 

Chr.    What!    Did  your  Neighbors  talk  so  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  'twas  for  a  while  in  every  body's  mouth. 

Chr.  What,  and  did  no  more  of  them  but  you  come  out  to  escape 
the  danger  ? 

Faith.  Though  there  was,  as  I  said,  a  great  talk  thereabout,  yet  I 
do  not  think  they  did  firmly  believe  it.  For  in  the  heat  of  the  discourse, 
I  heard  some  of  them  deridingly  speak  of  you,  and  of  your  desperate 
Journey,  (for  so  they  call  this  your  Pilgrimage)  but  I  did  believe,  and 
do  still,  that  the  end  of  our  City  will  be  with  Fire  and  Brimstone  from 
above  t  and  therefore  I  have  made  mine  escape. 

Chr.  Did  you  hear  no  talk  of  S^ighbor  Pliable  ? 

Faith.  Yes  Christian,  I  heard  that  he  followed  you  till  he  came  at 
the  Slough  of  Dispond,  where,  as  some  said,  he  fell  in ;  but  he  would 
not  be  known  to  have  so  done :  but  I  am  sure  he  was  soundly  bedab- 
bled with  that  kind  of  dirt. 

Chr.  And  ivhat  said  the  Neighbors  to  him  ? 

Faith.  He  hath,  since  his  going  back,  been  had  greatly  in  derision, 
and  that  among  all  sorts  of  People :  some  do  mock  and  despise  him, 
and  scarce  will  any  set  him  on  work.  He  is  now  seven  times  worse 
than  if  he  had  never  gone  out  of  the  City. 

Chr.  But  ivhy  should  they  be  so  set  against  him,  since  they  also 
despise  the  ivay  that  he  forsook  ? 

Faith.   O,  they  say,  Hang  him,  he  is  a  Turn-Coat,  he  was  not 


^^i 


R^ 


JJi 


o^. 


s 


'Gv, 


c-C 


10 


^ 


I  met  with  one  whose  name  was  Wanton,  that  had  like  to  have  done  me  a  mischief. 

true  to  his  profession.  I  think  God  has  stirred  up  even  his  Enemies 
to  hiss  at  him,  and  make  him  a  Proverb,  because  he  hath  forsaken 
the  way. 

Chr.  Had  you  no  talk  'with  him  before  you  came  out  ? 

Faith.  I  met  him  once  in  the  Streets,  but  he  leered  away  on  the 
other  side,  as  one  ashamed  of  what  he  had  done ;  so  I  spake  not  to 
him. 

Chr.  Welt,  at  my  first  setting  out,  I  had  hopes  of  that  Man  ;  but 
noJij  I  fear  he  ivill  perish  in  the  overthroiv  of  the  City,  for  it  is  hap- 
pened to  him,  according  to  the  true  Proverb,  The  Dog  is  turned  to  his 
Vomit  again,  and  the  Soiu  that  ivas  'washed  to  her  'wallo'wing  in  the 
mire. 

Faith.  They  are  my  fears  of  him  too.  But  who  can  hinder  that 
which  will  be  ? 

Chr.  Well  Neighbor  Faithful,  said  Christian,  let  us  leave  him; 
and  talk  of  things  that  more  immediately  concern  ourselves.  Tell  me 
ncnv,  'ti>hat  you  have  met  'with  in  the  'way  as  you  came;  for  I  kno'w 
you  have  met  tiyith  some  things,  or  else  it  may  be  'writ  for  a  'wonder. 

Faith.  I  escaped  the  Slough  that  I  perceive  you  fell  into,  and  got 

74 


'"^^^ 


'S^ 


up  to  the  Gate  without  that  danger ;  only  I  met  with  one  whose  name 
was  Wanton,  that  had  like  to  have  done  me  a  mischief. 

Chr.  'Tivas  ivelt  you  escaped  her  Net;  Joseph  J^as  hard  put  to  it 
by  her,  and  he  escaped  her  as  you  did,  but  it  had  like  to  ha'be  cost  him 
his  life.     But  'what  did  she  do  to  you  ? 

Faith.  You  cannot  think  (but  that  you  know  something)  what  a 
flattering  tongue  she  had,  she  lay  at  me  hard  to  turn  aside  with  her, 
promising  me  all  manner  of  content. 

Chr.  Nay,  she  did  not  promise  you  the  content  of  a  good  conscience. 

Faith.   You  know  what  I  mean,  all  carnal  and  fleshly  content. 

Chr.  Thank  God  you  have  escaped  her :  The  abhorred  of  the  Lord 
shall  fall  into  her  Ditch. 

Faith.  Nay,  I  know  not  whether  I  did  wholly  escape  her,  or  no. 

Chr.    Why,  I  tro  you  did  not  consent  to  her  desires  ? 

Faith.  No,  not  to  defile  myself ;  for  I  remembered  an  old  writing 
that  I  had  seen,  which  saith,  Her  steps  take  hold  of  hell.  So  I  shut 
mine  eyes,  because  I  would  not  be  bewitched  with  her  looks :  then  she 
railed  on  me,  and  I  went  my  way. 

Chr.  Did  you  meet  ivith  no  other  assault  as  you  came  ? 

Faith.  When  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  Hill  called  Difficulty,  I  met 
with  a  very  aged  Man,  who  asked  me.  What  I  ivas,  and  whither 
bound  ?  I  told  him.  That  I  was  a  Pilgrim,  going  to  the  Ccelestial  City. 
Then  said  the  Old  Man,  Thou  lookest  like  an  honest  fellcnv  ;  Wilt 
thou  be  content  to  divell  zuith  me,  for  the  'wages  that  I  shall  give  thee  ? 
Then  I  asked  him  his  name,  and  where  he  dwelt  ?  He  said  his  name 
was  Adam  the  first,  and  I  d'well  in  the  Tcnvn  of  Deceit.  I  asked  him 
then,  What  was  his  work  ?  and  what  the  wages  that  he  would  give  ? 
He  told  me.  That  his  work  was  many  delights  ;  and  his  'wages,  that  I 
should  he  his  Heir  at  last.  I  further  asked  him.  What  House  he  kept, 
and  what  other  Servants  he  had  ?  So  he  told  me,  That  his  House  lifas 
maintained  Tbith  all  the  dainties  in  the  'world,  and  that  his  Servants 
'were  those  of  his  o'wn  begetting.  Then  I  asked,  if  he  had  any  chil- 
dren ?  He  said  that  he  had  but  three  Daughters,  The  lust  of  the  flesh, 
the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life;  and  that  I  should  marry 
them  all,  if  I  would.  Then  I  asked,  how  long  time  he  would  have 
me  live  with  him  ?    And  he  told  me  As  long  as  he  lived  himself. 

Chr.  Well,  and  'what  conclusion  came  the  Old  Man  and  you 
to,  at  last} 

75 


ml 


^^M 


Faith.  Why,  at  first,  I  found  myself  somewhat  inclinable  to  go  with 
the  Man,  for  I  thought  he  spake  very  fair ;  But  looking  in  his  forehead  as  I 
talked  with  him,  I  saw  there  written.  Put  off  the  oldcMan  with  his  deeds. 

Chr.  And  hoiv  then  ? 

Faith.  Then  it  came  burning  hot  into  my  mind,  whatever  he  said, 
and  however  he  flattered,  when  he  got  me  home  to  his  House,  he 
would  sell  me  for  a  Slave.  So  I  bid  him  forbear  to  talk,  for  I  would 
not  come  near  the  door  of  his  House.  Then  he  reviled  me,  and  told 
me  that  he  would  send  such  a  one  after  me,  that  should  make  my 
way  bitter  to  my  Soul.  So  I  turned  to  go  away  from  him :  but  just 
as  I  turned  myself  to  go  thence,  I  felt  him  take  hold  of  my  flesh,  and 
give  me  such  a  deadly  twitch  back,  that  I  thought  he  had  pull'd  part 
of  me  after  himself.  This  made  me  cry,  O  'wretched  Man  I  So  I 
went  on  my  way  up  the  Hill. 

Now  when  I  had  got  about  half  way  up,  I  looked  behind  me,  and 
saw  one  coming  after  me,  swift  as  the  wind ;  so  he  overtook  me  just 
about  the  place  where  the  Settle  stands. 

Chr.  Just  there,  said  Christian,  did  I  sit  do'ii>n  to  rest  me;  but, 
being  overcome  l^ith  sleep,  I  there  lost  this  'J^ll  oat  of  my  bosom. 

Faith.  But  good  Brother  hear  me  out :  So  soon  as  the  Man  over- 
took me,  he  was  but  a  word  and  a  blow :  for  down  he  knockt  me,  and 
laid  me  for  dead.  But  when  I  was  a  little  come  to  myself  again,  I 
asked  him  wherefore  he  served  me  so  ?  he  said,  Because  of  my  secret 
inclining  to  Adam  the  first;  and  with  that,  he  strook  me  another 
deadly  blow  on  the  breast,  and  beat  me  down  backward,  so  I  lay  at  his 
foot  as  dead  as  before.  So  when  I  came  to  myself  again,  I  cried  him 
mercy ;  but  he  said,  I  know  not  how  to  show  mercy,  and  with  that 
knockt  me  down  again.  He  had  doubtless  made  an  end  of  me,  but 
that  one  came  by,  and  bid  him  forbear. 

Chr.    Who  zuas  that,  that  bid  him  forbear  ? 

Faith.  I  did  not  know  him  at  first,  but  as  he  went  by,  I  perceived 
the  holes  in  his  hands,  and  his  side ;  then  I  concluded  that  he  was  our 
Lord.    So  I  went  up  the  Hill. 

Chr.  That  Man  that  overtook  you,  ivas  Moses.  He  spareth  none, 
neither  knoweth  he  hoiv  to  shew  mercy  to  those  that  transgress  his  Laiv. 


mM 


pgi 


to 


-M 


Just  as  I  turned  myself  to  go  thence,  I  felt  him  take  hold  of  my  flesh,  and  give  me  such  a  deadly 
twitch  back,  that  I  thought  he  had  pull'd  part  of  me  after  himself. 

Faith.  I  know  it  very  well,  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  he  has  met 
with  me.  'Twas  he  that  came  to  me  when  I  dwelt  securely  at  home, 
and  that  told  me,  He  would  burn  my  House  over  my  head  if  I  staid  there. 

Chr.  But  did  not  you  see  the  House  that  stood  there  on  the  top  of 
that  Hill,  on  the  side  of  ivhich  Moses  met  you  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  and  the  Lions  too,  before  I  came  at  it;  but  for  the 
Lions,  I  think  they  were  asleep,  for  it  was  about  Noon ;  and  because 
I  had  so  much  of  the  day  before  me,  I  passed  by  the  Porter,  and  came 
down  the  Hill. 

Chr,  He  told  me  indeed  that  he  saiv  you  go  by  ;  but  I  wish  you  had 
called  at  the  House ;  for  they  would  have  shewed  you  so  many  Rarities, 
that  you  would  scarce  ha'be  forgot  them  to  the  day  of  your  death.  But 
pray  tell  me.  Did  you  meet  nobody  in  the  Valley  o/"  Humility  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  one  Discontent,  who  would  willingly  have 
perswaded  me  to  go  back  again  with  him :  his  reason  was,  for  that 

77 


^^ 


rrwi 


CM" 


the  Valley  was  altogether  without  Honour.  He  told  me  moreover, 
that  there  to  go  was  the  way  to  disobey  all  my  Friends,  as  Pride, 
c/lrrogancy.  Self- Conceit,  Worldly  Glory,  with  others,  who  he  knew, 
as  he  said,  would  be  very  much  offended,  if  I  made  such  a  Fool  of 
myself  as  to  wade  through  this  Valley. 

Chr.    Well,  and  hozu  did  you  ansiver  him  ? 

Faith.  I  told  him,  That  although  all  these  that  he  named  might 
claim  kindred  of  me,  and  that  rightly,  (for  indeed  they  were  my  Rela- 
tions, according  to  the  flesh)  yet  since  I  became  a  Pilgrim,  they  have 
disowned  me,  as  I  also  have  rejected  them ;  and  therefore  they  were 
to  me  now  no  more  than  if  they  had  never  been  of  my  Lineage.  I 
told  him  moreover,  that  as  to  this  Valley,  he  had  quite  mis-represented 
the  thing :  for  before  Honour  is  Humility,  and  a  haughty  spirit  before 
a  fall.  Therefore  said  I,  I  had  rather  go  through  this  Valley  to  the 
Honour  that  was  so  accounted  by  the  wisest,  than  chuse  that  which 
he  esteemed  most  worth  our  affections. 

Chr.  ^et  you  with  nothing  else  in  that  Valley  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  Shame.  But  of  all  the  Men  that  I  met 
with  in  my  Pilgrimage,  he  I  think  bears  the  wrong  name :  the  other 
would  be  said  nay,  after  a  little  argumentation,  (and  somewhat  else) 
but  this  boldfaced  Shame,  would  never  have  done. 

Chr.    Why,  Ji^hat  did  he  say  to  you  ? 

Faith.  What !  why  he  objected  against  Religion  itself ;  he  said  it 
was  a  pitiful  low  sneaking  business  for  a  Man  to  mind  Religion ;  he 
said  that  a  tender  conscience  was  an  unmanly  thing,  and  that  for  a 
Man  to  watch  over  his  words  and  ways,  so  as  to  tye  up  himself  from 
that  hectoring  liberty  that  the  brave  spirits  of  the  times  accustom  them- 
selves unto,  would  make  me  the  Ridicule  of  the  times.  He  objected 
also,  that  but  few  of  the  Mighty,  Rich,  or  Wise,  were  ever  of  my 
opinion ;  nor  any  of  them,  neither,  before  they  were  perswaded  to  be 
Fools,  and  to  be  of  a  voluntary  fondness  to  venture  the  loss  of  all,  for 
no  body  else  knoivs  luhat.  He  moreover  objected  the  base  and  low 
estate  and  condition  of  those  that  were  chiefly  the  Pilgrims  of  the  times 
in  which  they  lived :  also  their  ignorance,  and  want  of  understanding 
in  all  natural  Science.  Yea,  he  did  hold  me  to  it  at  that  rate  also  about 
a  great  many  more  things  than  here  I  relate ;  as,  that  it  was  a  shame 
to  sit  whining  and  mourning  under  a  Sermon,  and  a  shame  to  come 


i 


A, 


« 


sighing  and  groaning  home.  That  it  was  a  shame  to  ask  my  Neigh- 
bor forgiveness  for  petty  faults,  or  to  make  restitution  where  I  had 
taken  from  any.  He  said  also  that  Religion  made  a  man  grow  strange 
to  the  great,  because  of  a  few  vices  (which  he  called  by  finer  names) 
and  made  him  own  and  respect  the  base,  because  of  the  same  Religious 
Fraternity.    And  is  not  this,  said  he,  a  shame  ? 

Chr.  c4ndivhat  did  you  say  to  him  ? 

Faith.  Say !  I  could  not  tell  what  to  say  at  the  first.  Yea,  he  put 
me  so  to  it,  that  my  blood  came  up  in  my  face,  even  this  Shame  fetch'd 
it  up,  and  had  almost  beat  me  quite  off.  But  at  last  I  began  to  con- 
sider. That  that  ti>hich  is  highly  esteemed  among  Men,  is  had  in  abom- 
ination 'with  God.  And  I  thought  again.  This  Shame  tells  me  what 
men  are,  but  it  tells  me  nothing  what  God,  or  the  Word  of  God  is. 
And  I  thought  moreover,  that  at  the  day  of  doom,  we  shall  not  be 
doomed  to  death  or  life,  according  to  the  hectoring  spirits  of  the  world; 
but  according  to  the  Wisdom  and  Law  of  the  Highest.  Therefore 
thought  I,  what  God  says  is  best,  is  best,  though  all  the  Men  in  the 
world  are  against  it.  Seeing  then,  that  God  prefers  his  Religion,  see- 
ing God  prefers  a  tender  Conscience,  seeing  they  that  make  themselves 
Fools  for  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  are  wisest ;  and  that  the  poor  man 
that  loveth  Christ  is  richer  than  the  greatest  Man  in  the  world  that 
hates  him ;  Shame  depart,  thou  art  an  Enemy  to  my  Salvation  :  shall 
I  entertain  thee  against  my  Soveraign  Lord  ?  How  then  shall  I  look 
him  in  the  face  at  his  coming  ?  Should  I  now  be  ashamed  of  his 
Ways  and  Servants,  how  can  I  expect  the  blessing  ?  But  indeed  this 
Shame  was  a  bold  Villain ;  I  could  scarce  shake  him  out  of  my  com- 
pany ;  yea,  he  would  be  haunting  of  me,  and  continually  whispering 
me  in  the  ear,  with  some  one  or  other  of  the  infirmities  that  attend 
Religion :  but  at  last  I  told  him,  'Twas  but  in  vain  to  attempt  further 
in  this  business  ;  for  those  things  that  he  disdained,  in  those  did  I  see 
most  glory.  And  so  at  last  I  got  past  this  importunate  one.  And 
when  I  had  shaken  him  off  then  I  began  to  sing 


The  trials  that  those  men  do  meet  ivithal. 
That  are  obedient  to  the  Heavenly  call. 
Are  manifold,  and  suited  to  the  flesh. 
And  come,  and  come,  and  come  again  afresh  ; 


80 


A-« 


II 


That  nolU),  or  sometime  else,  ive  by  them  may 
Be  taken,  overcome,  and  cast  aivay. 
O  let  the  Pilgrims,  let  the  Pilgrims  then. 
Be  vigilant,  and  quit  themselves  like  men. 

Chr.  /  am  glad,  my  Brother,  that  thou  didst  ivithstand  this  Vil- 
lain so  bral>ely  ;  for  of  all,  as  thou  sayst,  I  think  he  has  the  wrong 
name :  for  he  is  so  bold  as  to  folloiv  us  in  the  Streets,  and  to  attempt 
to  pat  us  to  shame  before  all  men  ;  that  is,  to  make  us  ashamed  of 
that  ivhich  is  good:  but  if  he  ivas  not  himself  audacious,  he  would 
never  attempt  to  do  as  he  does,  but  let  us  still  resist  him  :  for  notivith- 
standing  all  his  Bravadoes,  he  promoteth  the  Fool,  and  none  else. 
The  Wise  shall  Inherit  Glory  said  Solomon,  but  shame  shall  be  the 
promotion  of  Fools. 

Faith.  I  think  we  must  cry  to  him  for  help  against  shame,  that 
would  have  us  be  valiant  for  Truth  upon  the  Earth. 

Chr.    You  say  true.    But  did  you  meet  nobody  else  in  that  Valley  ? 

Faith.  No,  not  I,  for  I  had  Sunshine  all  the  rest  of  the  way,  through 
that,  and  also  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 

Chr.  '  Tivas  'well  for  you,  I  am  sure  it  fared  far  otherwise  "Ufith 
me.  I  had  for  a  long  season,  as  soon  almost  as  I  entred  into  that 
Valley,  a  dreadful  Combat  with  that  foul  Fiend  cApollyon :  yea,  I 
thought  verily  he  would  have  killed  me ;  especially  when  he  got  me 
down,  and  crusht  me  under  him,  as  if  he  would  have  crusht  me  to 
pieces.  For  as  he  threw  me,  my  Sword  flew  out  of  my  hand ;  nay 
he  told  me  He  zuas  sure  of  me :  but  /  cried  to  God,  and  he  heard  me, 
and  delilyered  me  out  of  all  my  troubles.  Then  I  entered  into  the  Val- 
ley of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  had  no  light  for  almost  half  the  way 
through  it.  I  thought  I  should  have  been  killed  there,  over,  and  over. 
But  at  last  day  brake,  and  the  Sun  rose,  and  I  went  through  that 
which  was  behind  with  far  more  ease  and  quiet. 

Moreover,  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  as  they  went  on,  Faithful,  as 
he  chanced  to  look  on  one  side,  saw  a  Man  whose  name  is  Talkative, 
walking  at  a  distance  besides  them,  (for  in  this  place,  there  was  room 
enough  for  them  all  to  walk).  He  was  a  tall  cMan,  and  something 
more  comely  at  a  distance  than  at  hand.  To  this  Man  Faithful 
addressed  himself  in  this  manner. 

81 


*5 


11 


Faith.  Friend,  Whither  away  ?  c/lre  you  going  to  the  Heavenly 
Country  ? 

Talk.  I  am  going  to  that  same  place. 

Faith,  That  is  Ti^ell;  then  I  hope  we  may  have  your  good 
Company. 

Talk.    With  a  very  good  will  will  I  be  your  Companion. 

Faith,  Come  on  then,  and  let  us  go  together,  and  let  us  spend  our 
time  in  discoursing  of  things  that  are  profitable. 

Talk.  To  talk  of  things  that  are  good,  to  me  is  very  acceptable, 
with  you,  or  with  any  other;  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  met  with 
those  that  incline  to  so  good  a  work.  For  to  speak  the  truth,  there 
are  but  few  that  care  thus  to  spend  their  time  (as  they  are  in  their 
travels),  but  chuse  much  rather  to  be  speaking  of  things  to  no  profit, 
and  this  hath  been  a  trouble  to  me. 

Faith.  That  is  indeed  a  thing  to  be  lamented;  for  what  things  so 
TDorthy  of  the  use  of  the  tongue  and  mouth  of  men  on  Earth,  as  are 
the  things  of  the  God  of  Hea'hen  ? 

Talk.  I  like  you  wonderful  well,  for  your  saying  is  full  of  convic- 
tion ;  and  I  will  add.  What  thing  so  pleasant,  and  what  so  profitable, 
as  to  talk  of  the  things  of  God  ? 

What  things  so  pleasant  ?  (that  is,  if  a  man  hath  any  delight  in 
things  that  are  wonderful)  for  instance,  if  a  man  doth  delight  to  talk 
of  the  History  or  Mystery  of  things,  or  if  a  man  doth  love  to  talk  of 
Miracles,  Wonders,  or  Signs,  where  shall  he  find  things  recorded  so 
delightful,  and  so  sweetly  penned,  as  in  the  holy  Scripture  ? 

Faith,  That^s  true :  but  to  be  profited  by  such  things  in  our  talk 
should  be  that  ivhich  ive  design. 

Talk.  That  is  it  that  I  said :  for  to  talk  of  such  things  is  most 
profitable,  for  by  so  doing,  a  Man  may  get  knowledge  of  many  things, 
as  of  the  vanity  of  earthly  things,  and  the  benefit  of  things  above: 
(thus  in  general)  but  more  particularly,  by  this  a  man  may  learn  the 
necessity  of  the  New-birth,  the  insufficiency  of  our  works,  the  need  of 
Christs  righteousness,  etc.  Besides,  by  this  a  man  may  learn  by  talk, 
what  it  is  to  repent,  to  believe,  to  pray,  to  suffer,  or  the  like  :  by  this  also 
a  Man  may  learn  what  are  the  great  promises  and  consolations  of  the 
Gospel,  to  his  own  comfort.  Further,  by  this  a  Man  may  learn  to  refute 
false  opinions,  to  vindicate  the  truth,  and  also  to  instruct  the  ignorant. 

82 


\ 


f 


\ 


Faith.  All  this  is  true,  and  glad  am  I  to  hear  these  things  from  you. 

Talk.  Alas !  the  want  of  this  is  the  cause  that  so  few  understand 
the  need  of  Faith,  and  the  necessity  of  a  work  of  Grace  in  their  Soul, 
in  order  to  eternal  life ;  but  ignorantly  live  in  the  works  of  the  Law, 
by  which  a  man  can  by  no  means  obtain  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

Faith.  But  by  your  leave,  Heavenly  knowledge  of  these,  is  the  gift 
of  God;  no  man  attaineth  to  them  by  human  industry,  or  only  by  the 
talk  of  them. 

Talk.  All  this  I  know  very  veil,  for  a  man  can  receive  nothing 
except  it  be  given  him  from  Heaven ;  all  is  of  Grace,  not  of  works :  I 
could  give  you  an  hundred  Scriptures  for  the  confirmation  of  this. 

Faith.  Well,  then,  said  Faithful,  ivhat  is  that  one  thing,  that  ive 
shall  at  this  time  found  our  discourse  upon  ? 

Talk.  What  you  will :  I  will  talk  of  things  Heavenly,  or  things 
Earthly;  things  Moral,  or  things  Evangelical;  things  Sacred,  or 
things  Prophane;  things  past,  or  things  to  come;  things  foreign,  or 
things  at  home;  things  more  Essential,  or  things  Circumstantial; 
provided  that  all  be  done  to  our  profit. 

Faith.  Now  did  Faithful  begin  to  wonder ;  and  stepping  to  Chris- 
tian, (for  he  walked  all  this  while  by  himself,)  he  said  to  him,  (but 
softly)  What  a  Brave  Companion  have  ivegotJ  Surely  this  man  ti>ill 
make  a  very  excellent  Pilgrim. 

Chr.  At  this  Christian  modestly  smiled,  and  said.  This  man  with 
whom  you  are  so  taken,  will  beguile  with  this  tongue  of  his,  twenty 
of  them  that  know  him  not. 

Faith.   Do  you  knoiv  him  then  ? 

Chr.  Know  him !     Yes,  better  than  he  knows  himself. 

Faith.  Pray  what  is  he? 

Chr.  His  name  is  Talkative,  he  dwelleth  in  our  Town ;  I  wonder 
that  you  should  be  a  stranger  to  him,  only  I  consider  that  our  Town 
is  large. 

Faith.    Whose  son  is  he  ?    And  ivhereabout  doth  he  divell  ? 

Chr.  He  is  the  son  of  one  Sayivell,  he  dwelt  in  Prating-roiv  ;  and 
he  is  known  of  all  that  are  acquainted  with  him,  by  the  name  of 
Talkative  in  Prating-roiv :  and  notwithstanding  his  fine  tongue,  he  is 
but  a  sorry  fellow. 

Faith.    Well,  he  seems  to  be  a  very  pretty  man. 


83 


Chr.  That  is,  to  them  that  have  not  thorough  acquaintance  with 
him,  for  he  is  best  abroad,  near  home  he  is  ugly  enough :  your  saying, 
That  he  is  a  pretty  man,  brings  to  my  mind  what  I  have  observed  in 
the  work  of  the  Painter,  whose  Pictures  shew  best  at  a  distance ;  but 
very  near,  more  unpleasing. 

Faith,  But  I  am  ready  to  think  you  do  but  jest,  because  you 
smiled. 

Chr.  God  forbid  that  I  should  jest,  (though  I  smiled)  in  this  matter, 
or  that  I  should  accuse  any  falsely;  I  will  give  you  a  further  discovery 
of  him :  This  man  is  for  any  company,  and  for  any  talk  ;  as  he  talketh 
noiv  with  you,  so  will  he  talk  when  he  is  on  the  Ale-bench  :  and  the  more 
drink  he  hath  in  his  crown,  the  more  of  these  things  he  hath  in  his 
mouth.  Religion  hath  no  place  in  his  heart,  or  house,  or  conversa- 
tion ;  all  he  hath,  lieth  in  his  tongue,  and  his  Religion  is  to  make  a 
noise  therewith. 

Faith.  Say  you  so  I     Than  am  I  in  this  man  greatly  deceived, 

Chr.  Deceived !  you  may  be  sure  of  it.  Remember  the  Proverb, 
They  say  and  do  not ;  but  the  Kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  ivord,  but  in 
power.  He  talketh  of  Prayer,  of  Repentance,  of  Faith,  and  of  the 
New  Birth :  but  he  knows  but  only  to  talk  of  them.  I  have  been  in 
his  Family,  and  have  observed  him  both  at  home  and  abroad ;  and  I 
know  what  I  say  of  him  is  the  truth.  His  house  is  as  empty  of  Re- 
ligion, as  the  ivhite  of  an  Egg  is  of  sa1>our.  There  is  there  neither 
Prayer,  nor  sign  of  Repentance  for  sin:  yea,  the  brute  in  his  kind 
serves  God  far  better  than  he.  He  is  the  very  stain,  reproach, 
and  shame  of  Religion  to  all  that  know  him;  it  can  hardly  have 
a  good  word  in  all  that  end  of  the  Town  where  he  dwells,  through 
him.  Thus  say  the  common  People  that  know  him,  A  Saint 
abroad,  and  a  Devil  at  home.  His  poor  Family  finds  it  so,  he  is 
such  a  churl,  such  a  railer  at,  and  so  unreasonable  with  his  Servants, 
that  they  neither  know  how  to  do  for,  or  speak  to  him.  Men  that 
have  any  dealings  with  him,  say  'tis  better  to  deal  with  a  Turk  then 
with  him,  for  fairer  dealing  they  shall  have  at  their  hands.  This 
Talkative,  if  it  be  possible,  will  go  beyond  them,  defraud,  beguile, 
and  over-reach  them.  Besides,  he  brings  up  his  Sons  to  follow  his 
steps ;  and  if  he  findeth  in  any  of  them  a  foolish  timorousness  (for  so 
he  calls  the  first  appearance  of  a  tender  conscience)  he  calls  them  fools 

85 


»r3^ 


W^ 


^  ■^-jy ') 


and  blockheads ;  and  by  no  means  will  employ  them  in  much,  or  speak 
to  their  commendations  before  others.  For  my  part  I  am  of  opinion, 
that  he  has  by  his  wicked  life  caused  many  to  stumble  and  fall ;  and 
will  be,  if  God  prevent  not,  the  ruin  of  many  more. 

Faith.  Welt,  my  Brother,  I  am  bound  to  believe  you ;  not  only 
because  you  say  you  know  htm,  but  also  because  like  a  Christian,  you 
make  your  reports  of  men.  For  I  cannot  think  that  you  speak  these 
things  of  ill  ivill,  but  because  it  is  efben  so  as  you  say. 

Chr.  Had  I  known  him  no  more  than  you,  I  might  perhaps  have 
thought  of  him  as  at  the  first  you  did.  Yea,  had  he  received  this  re- 
port at  their  hands  only  that  are  enemies  to  Religion,  I  should  have 
thought  it  had  been  a  slander :  (a  Lot  that  often  falls  from  bad  mens 
mouths  upon  good  mens  Names  and  Professions:)  But  all  these 
things,  yea  and  a  great  many  more  as  bad,  of  my  own  knowledge  I 
can  prove  him  guilty  of.  Besides,  good  men  are  ashamed  of  him,  they 
can  neither  call  him  Brother  nor  Friend;  the  very  naming  of  him 
among  them,  makes  them  blush,  if  they  know  him. 

Faith.  Well,  I  see  that  Saying  and  Doing  are  tivo  things,  and 
hereafter  I  shall  better  observe  this  distinction. 

Chr.  They  are  fiDo  things  indeed,  and  are  as  diverse  as  are  the 
Soul  and  the  Body :  for  as  the  Body  without  the  Soul,  is  but  a  dead 
Carcass ;  so.  Saying,  if  it  be  alone,  is  but  a  dead  Carcass  also.  The 
Soul  of  Religion  is  the  practick  part :  Pure  Religion  and  undefiled,  be- 
fore God  and  the  Father,  is  this.  To  visit  the  Fatherless  and  Widows 
in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  World. 
This  Talkative  is  not  aware  of,  he  thinks  that  hearing  and  saying 
will  make  a  good  Christian,  and  thus  he  deceiveth  his  own  Soul. 
Hearing  is  but  as  the  sowing  of  the  Seed ;  talking  is  not  sufficient  to 
prove  that  fruit  is  indeed  in  the  heart  and  life ;  and  let  us  assure  our- 
selves, that  at  the  day  of  Doom  men  shall  be  judged  according  to  their 
fruits.  It  will  not  be  said  then.  Did  you  belie'be }  but,  were  you 
Doers,  or  Talkers  only  ?  and  accordingly  shall  they  be  judged.  The 
end  of  the  World  is  compared  to  our  Harvest,  and  you  know  men  at 
Harvest  regard  nothing  but  Fruit.  Not  that  anything  can  be  accepted 
that  is  not  of  Faith ;  but  I  speak  this  to  show  you  how  insignificant 
the  profession  of  Talkative  will  be  at  that  day. 

86 


C/3 


cr 

O 
p. 

P 

s 


C/3  S 

2   3 

:?  J* 

►j»TJ 

?i-  o 


P*   "Tl 

n 

p 

■<! 

D 

f^ 

o 

^ 

13* 

HH 

n 

D 

•< 

Ok 

W* 

w 

3 

O 

00 

cr 

Sf 

o 

(% 

^ 

0^  £1, 


2  c 

ft)  c 

S"  p 

a  r> 


p 

3 


c 
s 

PI 
p 
(rt 

o 

3 

p 


'%^' 


Kit. 


..-MZP 


fS-o 


fb'i 


t^ 


.Qy 


Faith.  This  brings  to  my  mind  that  of  Moses,  by  ti)hich  he  describ- 
eth  the  beast  that  is  clean.  He  is  such  an  one  that  parteth  the  Hoof, 
and  chetveth  the  Cud:  not  that  parteth  the  Hoof  only,  or  that  cheweth 
the  Cud  only.  The  Hare  che'ii>eth  the  Cud,  but  yet  is  unclean,  because 
he  parteth  not  the  Hoof.  And  this  truly  resembleth  Talkative;  he 
che^ueth  the  Cud,  he  seeketh  kncnvledge,  he  che<xveth  upon  the  Word, 
but  he  dil^ideth  not  the  Hoof,  he  parteth  not  <with  the  ivay  of  sinners  ; 
but  as  the  Hare,  retaineth  the  foot  of  a  Dog,  or  Bear,  and  therefore  he 
is  unclean. 

Chr.  You  have  spoken,  for  ought  I  know,  the  true  Gospel  sense  of 
those  Texts,  and  I  will  add  another  thing.  Paul  calleth  some  men,  yea 
and  those  great  Talkers  too,  sounding  Brass,  and  Tinkling  Cymbals ; 
that  is,  as  he  expounds  them  in  another  place.  Things  "ivithout  life, 
giving  sound.  Things  without  life,  that  is,  without  the  true  Faith  and 
Grace  of  the  Gospel ;  and  consequently,  things  that  shall  never  be 
placed  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  among  those  that  are  the  Chil- 
dren of  life :  Though  their  sound,  by  their  talk,  be  as  if  it  were  the 
Tongue  or  voice  of  an  Angel. 

Faith.  Well,  I  ivas  not  so  fond  of  his  company  at  first,  but  I  am 
as  sick  of  it  noiv.     What  shall  <ive  do  to  6e  rid  of  him  ? 

Chr.  Take  my  advice,  and  do  as  I  bid  you,  and  you  shall  find  that 
he  will  soon  be  sick  of  your  Company  too,  except  God  shall  touch  his 
heart  and  turn  it. 

Faith.    What  'would  you  hal^e  me  to  do  } 

Chr.  Why,  go  to  him,  and  enter  into  some  serious  discourse  about 
the  po'ii)er  of  Religion :  And  ask  him  plainly  (when  he  has  approved 
of  it,  for  that  he  will)  whether  this  thing  be  set  up  in  his  Heart,  House, 
or  Conversation. 

Faith.  Then  Faithful  stepped  forward  again,  and  said  to  Talkative: 
Come,  l^hat  chear  ?  hoti)  is  it  now  ? 

Talk.  Thank  you.  Well.  I  thought  we  should  have  had  a  great 
deal  of  Talk  by  this  time. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will,  7i>e  will  fall  to  it  noTb;  and  since  you 
left  it  with  me  to  state  the  question,  let  it  be  this:  How  doth  the 
saving  grace  of  God  discover  itself,  ivhen  it  is  in  the  heart  of  man  ? 

Talk.  I  perceive  then  that  our  talk  must  be  about  the  power  of 


,m,^ 


roj 


^1 


J:? 


i'^' 


#1*1 


^ 


c^ 


things;  Well,  'tis  a  very  good  question,  and  I  shall  be  willing  to 
answer  you.  And  take  my  answer  in  brief  thus.  First,  Where  the 
Grace  of  God  is  in  the  heart,  it  causeth  there  a  great  outcry  against 
sin.     Secondly, 

Faith.   Nay  hold,  let  as  consider  of  one  at  once .  I  think  you  should 
rather  say.  It  shoivs  itself  by  inclining  the  Soul  to  abhor  its  sin. 

Talk.  Why,  what  difference  is  there  between  crying  out  against, 
and  abhoring  of  sin  ? 

Faith.  Oh!  a  great  deal;  a  man  may  cry  out  against  sin,  of 
policy ;  but  he  cannot  abhor  it,  but  by  vertue  of  a  Godly  antipathy 
against  it:  I  have  heard  many  cry  out  against  sin  in  the  Pulpit,  ivho 
yet  can  abide  it  ivell  enough  in  the  heart,  house,  and  conversation. 
Joseph's  Mistris  cried  out  with  a  loud  voice,  as  if  she  had  been  very 
holy;  but  she  TDoald  ivillingly,  notwithstanding  that,  have  com- 
mitted uncleanness  with  him.  Some  cry  out  against  sin,  even  as  the 
Mother  cries  out  against  her  Child  in  her  lap,  when  she  calleth  it  Slut 
and  naughty  Girl,  and  then  falls  to  hugging  and  kissing  it. 

Talk.  You  lie  at  the  catch,  I  perceive. 

Faith.  No  not  I,  lam  only  for  setting  things  right.  But  what  is 
the  second  thing  whereby  you  would  prove  a  discovery  of  a  work  of 
grace  in  the  heart  ? 

Talk.   Great  knowledge  of  Gospel  Mysteries. 

Faith.  This  sign  should  have  been  first;  but  first  or  last,  it  is  also 
false;  for.  Knowledge,  great  knowledge,  may  be  obtained  in  the  mys- 
teries of  the  Gospel,  and  yet  no  work  of  grace  in  the  Soul :  Yea,  if  a 
man  have  all  knowledge,  he  may  yet  be  nothing,  and  so  consequently 
be  no  child  of  God.  When  Christ  said.  Do  you  know  all  these  things? 
and  the  Disciples  had  answered.  Yes  :  He  addeth.  Blessed  are  ye,  if  ye 
do  them.  He  doth  not  lay  the  blessing  in  the  knowing  of  them,  but 
in  the  doing  of  them.  For  there  is  a  knowledge  that  is  not  attended 
with  doing :  He  that  knoweth  his  Masters  will,  and  doth  it  not.  A 
man  may  know  like  an  Angel,  and  yet  be  no  Christian;  therefore  your 
sign  is  not  true.  Indeed  to  know,  is  a  thing  that  pleaseth  Talkers  and 
Boasters  ;  but  to  do,  is  that  which  pleaseth  God.  Not  that  the  heart 
can  be  good  Tbithout  knowledge,  for  Jbithout  that  the  heart  is  naught. 
There  is  therefore  knowledge  and  knowledge.    Knowledge  that  resteth 

89 


1 


¥, 


in  the  bare  speculation  of  things,  and  knoivledge  that  is  accompanied 
7t>ith  the  grace  of  faith  and  love,  ivhich  puts  a  man  upon  doing  even 
the  ivill  of  God  from  the  heart:  the  first  of  these  ivill  serve  the  Talker, 
but  ivithout  the  other  the  true  Christian  is  not  content.  Give  mc  un- 
derstanding, and  I  shall  keep  thy  Law,  yea  I  shall  observe  it  with  my 
whole  heart. 

Talk.  You  lie  at  the  catch  again,  this  is  not  for  edification. 

Faith,    Well,  if  you  please,  propound  another  sign  hoiv  this  ivork 
of  grace  discovereth  itself  ivhere  it  is. 

Talk.   Not  I,  for  I  see  we  shall  not  agree. 

Faith.    Well,  if  you  ivill  not,  ivill  you  give  me  leave  to  do  it  ? 

Talk.  You  may  use  your  liberty. 

Faith.  A  ivork  of  grace  in  the  soul  discovereth  itself,  either  to  him 
that  hath  it,  or  to  standers  by. 

To  him  that  hath  it,  thus.  It  gives  him  conviction  of  sin,  especially 
of  the  defilement  of  his  nature,  and  the  sin  of  unbelief,  (for  the  sake 
of  ti}hich  he  is  sure  to  be  damned,  if  he  findeth  not  mercy  at  God's 
hand  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.)  This  sight  and  sense  of  things  ivorketh 
in  him  sorrow  and  shame  for  sin ;  he  findeth  moreover  repealed  in 
him  the  Saviour  of  the  World,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  closing 
ivith  him  for  life,  at  the  'ti>hich  he  findeth  hungerings  and  thirstings 
after  him,  to  ivhich  hungerings,  etc.  the  promise  is  made.  Noiv  ac- 
cording to  the  strength  or  weakness  of  his  Faith  in  his  Saviour,  so  is 
his  joy  and  peace,  so  is  his  love  to  holiness,  so  are  his  desires  to  knoiv 
him  more,  and  also  to  ser'he  him  in  this  World.  But  though  I  say  it 
discovereth  itself  thus  unto  him  ;  yet  it  is  but  seldom  that  he  is  able 
to  conclude  that  this  is  a  ivork  of  Grace,  because  his  corruptions  now, 
and  his  abused  reason,  makes  his  mind  to  mis-judge  in  this  matter; 
therefore  in  him  that  hath  this  work,  there  is  required  a  very  sound 
Judgement,  before  he  can  with  steadiness  conclude  that  this  is  a  work 
of  Grace. 

To  others  it  is  thus  discovered. 

J .  By  an  experimental  confession  of  his  Faith  in  Christ.  2.  By  a 
life  answerable  to  that  confession,  to  wit,  a  life  of  holiness ;  heart- 
holiness,  family-holiness,  {if  he  hath  a  Family)  and  by  Conversation- 
holiness  in  the  World:  which  in  the  general  teacheth  him,  inwardly 
to  abhor  his  Sin,  and  himself  for  that  in  secret,  to  suppress  it  in  his 

90 


Family,  and  to  promote  holiness  in  the  World;  not  by  talk  only,  as 
an  Hypocrite  or  Talkative  Person  may  do  :  but  by  a  practical  Subjec- 
tion in  Faith,  and  Lol^e,  to  the  polPt}er  of  the  iPbord.  And  no'w  Sir,  as 
to  this  brief  description  of  the  ivork  of  Grace,  and  also  the  disco'bery 
of  it,  if  you  ha'be  ought  to  object,  object;  if  not,  then  give  me  lealje 
to  propound  to  you  a  second  question. 

Talk.  Nay,  my  part  is  not  now  to  object,  but  to  hear;  let  me 
therefore  have  your  second  question. 

Faith.  It  is  this,  Do  you  experience  the  first  part  of  this  description 
of  it  ?  and  doth  your  life  and  conversation  testify  the  same?  or  stand- 
eth  your  Religion  in  Word  or  in  Tongue,  and  not  in  Deed  and  Truth} 
pray,  if  you  incline  to  ansiver  me  in  this,  say  no  more  than  you  kncnv 
the  God  above  ivill  say  Amen  to  ;  and  also,  nothing  but  what  your 
Conscience  can  justify  you  in :  For,  not  he  that  commendeth  himself 
is  approved,  but  whom  the  Lord  commendeth.  Besides,  to  say  lam 
thus,  and  thus,  when  my  Conversation,  and  all  my  Neighbors  tell  me 
I  lye,  is  great  "wickedness. 

Talk.  Then  Talkative  at  first  began  to  blush,  but  recovering  him- 
self. Thus  he  replyed,  You  come  now  to  Experience,  to  Conscience,  and 
God :  and  to  appeal  to  him  for  justification  of  what  is  spoken :  This 
kind  of  discourse  I  did  not  expect,  nor  am  I  disposed  to  give  an  answer 
to  such  questions,  because,  I  count  not  myself  bound  thereto,  unless  you 
take  upon  you  to  be  a  Catechiser ;  and,  though  you  should  so  do,  yet 
I  may  refuse  to  make  you  my  Judge.  But  I  pray  will  you  tell  me, 
why  you  ask  me  such  questions  ? 

Faith.  Because  I  saiv  you  forward  to  talk,  and  because  I  kne^u 
not  that  you  had  ought  else  but  notion.  Besides,  to  tell  you  all  the 
Truth,  I  have  heard  of  you,  that  you  are  a  Man  ivhose  Religion  lies  in 
talk,  and  that  your  Conversation  gives  this  your  Mouth- profession  the 
lye.  They  say  You  are  a  spot  among  Christians,  and  that  Religion 
fareth  the  -worse  for  your  ungodly  conversations  that  some  already 
have  stumbled  at  your  ivicked  ways,  and  that  more  are  in  danger  of 
being  destroyed  thereby  ;  your  Religion,  and  an  Ale-House,  and  Covet- 
ousness,  and  uncleanness,  and  sivearing,  and  lying,  and  vain  Company- 
keeping,  etc.  ivill  stand  together.  The  proverb  is  true  of  you,  ivhich 
is  said  of  a  Whore,  to  wit.  That  she  is  a  shame  to  all  Women ;  so 
you  are  a  shame  to  all  Professors. 


91 


/km 


Cm 


N^ 


■:i}■::i:i:^}:::.^y:t:^;^yi^^^ 


•'•I'-i: 


Talk.  Since  you  are  ready 
to  take  up  reports,  and  to  judge 
so  rashly  as  you  do,  I  cannot 
but  conclude  you  are  some 
peevish,  or  melancholy  Man, 
not  fit  to  be  discoursed  with, 
and  so  adieu. 

Chr.  Then  came  up  Chris- 
tian, and  said  to  his  Brother, 
I  told  you  how  it  would  hap- 
pen, your  words  and  his  lusts 
could  not  agree ;  he  had  rather 
leave  your  company,  than  re- 
form his  life.  But  he  has  gone 
as  I  said ;  let  him  go ;  the  loss 
is  no  man's  but  his  own ;  he 
has  saved  us  the  trouble  of 
going  from  him;  for  he  con- 
tinuing, as  I  suppose  he  will 
do,  as  he  is,  he  would  have 
been  but  a  blot  in  our  Com- 
pany; besides,  the  Apostle 
says,  From  such  lutthdraiv 
thyself. 
Faith.  But  I  am  glad  Ji^e 
had  this  little  discourse  ivith  him,  it  may  happen  that  he  ivill  think  of 
it  again  ;  hoivever,  I  hal^e  dealt  plainly  ivith  him,  and  so  am  clear  of 
his  blood,  if  he  perisheth. 

Chr.  You  did  well  to  talk  so  plainly  to  him  as  you  did,  there  is  but 
little  of  this  faithful  dealing  with  men  now  a  days;  and  that  makes 
Religion  to  stink  in  the  nostrils  of  many,  as  it  doth :  for  they  are  these 
Talkative  Fools,  whose  Religion  is  only  in  word,  and  are  debauched 
and  vain  in  their  Conversation,  that  (being  so  much  admitted  into  the 
Fellowship  of  the  Godly)  do  stumble  the  World,  blemish  Christianity, 
and  grieve  the  Sincere.  I  wish  that  all  men  would  deal  with  such  as 
you  have  done,  then  should  they  either  be  made  more  conformable  to 
Religion,  or  the  company  of  Saints  would  be  too  hot  for  them. 


And  so  adieu. 


..1.1.,  1. LI 


rTTTTT^T^^ 


:•t;;;■v';^•■•;:•v^■^■•■•^^••:^;v•:;^:•:.•\^^ 

•.■■■■..•.■■•■.•:■••••■- l^^^V/;:^^i^■■■^V■V■^^^'■\\S^g:==si^Ca/^V:^^  ^v;/.v;;:;\.:{-.v/////;;;;v;v.v:;:S;.V;;.;: 


ifou*  Talkative  zd  first  lifts  up  his  Plumes  ! 
Hoiv  bravely  doth  he  speak  I  hoiv  he  presumes 
To  dn'be  doHvn  all  before  him  !  but  so  soon 
As  Faithful  talks  o/"  Heart-work,  like  the  Moon 
That's  past  the  full,  into  the  ivane  he  goes 
And  so  ivill  all,  but  he  that  Heart- work  knows. 

Thus  they  went  on  talking  of  what  they  had  seen  by  the  way,  and 
so  made  that  way  easy,  which  would  otherwise,  no  doubt,  have  been 
tedious  to  them :  for  now  they  went  through  a  Wilderness. 

Now  when  they  were  got  almost  quite  out  of  this  Wilderness,  Faith- 
ful chanced  to  cast  his  eye  back,  and  espied  one  coming  after  them, 
and  he  knew  him.  Oh !  said  Faithful  to  his  Brother,  who  comes 
yonder?  Then  Christian  looked,  and  said,  It  is  my  good  friend 
Evangelist.  Ay,  and  my  good  friend  too,  said  Faithful;  for  'twas 
he  that  set  me  the  way  to  the  Gate.  Now  was  Evangelist  come  up 
unto  them,  and  thus  saluted  them. 

EvANG.  Peace  be  with  you,  dearly  beloved,  and,  peace  be  to  your 
helpers. 

Chr.  Welcome,  ^welcome,  my  good  Evangelist,  the  sight  of  thy 
countenance  brings  to  my  remembrance  thy  ancient  kindness,  and 
unl^earied  laboring  for  my  eternal  good. 

Faith.  And,  a  thousand  times  ivelcome,  said  good  Faithful ;  Thy 
company,  Os^veet  Evangelist,  hoiu  desirable  is  it  to  us,  poor  Pilgrims  I 

EvANG.  Then,  said  Evangelist,  How  hath  it  fared  with  you,  my 
friends,  since  the  time  of  our  last  parting  ?  ivhat  have  you  met  with, 
and  ho'w  have  you  behaved  yourselves  ? 

Then  Christian  and  Faithful  told  him  of  all  things  that  had  hap- 
pened to  them  in  the  way ;  and  hoiv,  and  with  ivhat  difficulty  they 
had  arrived  to  that  place. 

EvANG.  Right  glad  am  I,  said  Evangelist ;  not  that  you  met  with 
trials,  but  that  you  have  been  victors,  and  for  that  you  have  (notwith- 
standing many  weaknesses,)  continued  in  the  way  to  this  very  day. 

I  say,  right  glad  am  I  of  this  thing,  and  that  for  mine  own  sake  and 
yours ;  I  have  sowed,  and  you  have  reaped,  and  the  day  is  coming, 
when  both  he  that  sowed,  and  they  that  reaped  shall  rejoice  together ; 
that  is,  if  you  hold  out :  for,  in  due  time  ye  shall  reap,  if  you  faint  not. 

93 


p^^*7 


Then  Christian  thanked  him  for  his  exhortation. 


The  Crown  is  before  you,  and  it  is  an  incorruptible  one ;  so  run  that 
you  may  obtain  it.  Some  there  be  that  set  out  for  this  Crown,  and 
after  they  have  gone  far  for  it,  another  comes  in,  and  takes  it  from 
them  ?  hold  fast  therefore  that  you  have,  let  no  man  take  your  Crown. 
You  are  not  yet  out  of  the  gun-shot  of  the  Devil.  You  have  not  re- 
sisted unto  blood,  striving  against  sin.  Let  the  Kingdom  be  always 
before  you,  and  believe  stedfastly  concerning  things  that  are  invisible. 
Let  nothing  that  is  on  this  side  the  other  world  get  within  you ;  and 
above  all,  look  well  to  your  own  hearts,  and  to  the  lusts  thereof ;  for 
they  are  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked :  set  your 
faces  like  a  flint,  you  have  all  power  in  Heaven  and  Earth  on  your 
side. 

Chr.  Then  Christian  thanked  him  for  his  exhortation,  but  told 
him  ivithal,  that  they  luould  have  him  speak  farther  to  them  for  their 
help,  the  rest  of  the  ivay  ;  and  the  rather,  for  that  they  ivell  knew 
that  he  ivas  a  Prophet,  and  could  tell  them  of  things  that  might  hap- 
pen unto  them  ;  and  also  hoiv  they  might  resist  and  overcome  them. 
To  ivhich  request  Faithful  also  consented.  So  Evangelist  began  as 
follov/eth. 

EvANG.  My  Sons,  you  have  heard  in  the  words  of  the  truth  of  the 
Gospel,  that  you  must  through  many  tribulations  enter  into  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven.  And  again,  that  in  every  City,  bonds  and  afflictions 
abide  in  you;  and  therefore  you  cannot  expect  that  you  should  go 
long  on  your  Pilgrimage  without  them,  in  some  sort  or  other.    You 

9-1 


^ 


have  found  something  of  the  truth  of  these  testimonies  upon  you 
already,  and  more  will  immediately  follow :  for  now,  as  you  see,  you 
are  almost  out  of  this  Wilderness,  and  therefore  you  will  soon  come 
into  a  Town  that  you  will  by  and  by  see  before  you :  and  in  that 
Town  you  will  be  hardly  beset  with  enemies,  who  will  strain  hard  but 
they  will  kill  you :  and  be  you  sure  that  one  or  both  of  you  must  seal 
the  testimony  which  you  hold,  with  blood :  but  be  you  faithful  unto 
death,  and  the  King  will  give  you  a  Crown  of  life.  He  that  shall  die 
there,  although  his  death  will  be  unnatural,  and  his  pain  perhaps 
great,  he  will  yet  have  the  better  of  his  fellow ;  not  only  because  he 
will  be  arrived  at  the  Coelestial  City  soonest,  but  because  he  will 
escape  many  miseries  that  the  other  will  meet  with  in  the  rest  of  his 
Journey.  But  when  you  are  come  to  the  Town,  and  shall  find 
fulfilled  what  I  have  here  related,  then  remember  your  friend,  and  quit 
your  selves  like  men ;  and  commit  the  keeping  of  your  souls  to  your 
God  in  well-doing,  as  unto  a  faithful  Creator. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  when  they  were  got  out  of  the 
Wilderness,  they  presently  saw  a  Town  before  them,  and  the  name 
of  that  Town  is  Vanity ;  and  at  the  town  there  is  a  Fair  kept, 
called  Vanity-Fair.  It  is  kept  all  the  Year  long  :  it  beareth  the  name 
of  Vanity-Fair,  because  the  Town  where  'tis  kept,  is  lighter  than 
Vanity ;  and  also,  because  all  that  is  there  sold,  or  that  cometh  thither, 
is  Vanity.    As  is  the  saying  of  the  wise,  cAll  that  cometh  is  Vanity. 

This  Fair  is  no  new  erected  business,  but  a  thing  of  ancient 
standing;  I  will  shew  you  the  original  of  it. 

Almost  five  thousand  years  agone,  there  were  Pilgrims  walking  to 
the  Cozlestial  City,  as  these  two  honest  persons  are ;  and  Beelzebub, 
Apollyon,  and  Legion,  with  their  Companions,  perceiving  by  the  path 
that  the  Pilgrims  made,  that  their  way  to  the  City  lay  through  this 
Toivn  of  Vanity,  they  contrived  here  to  set  up  a  Fair ;  a  Fair  wherein 
should  be  sold  of  all  sorts  of  Vanity,  and  that  it  should  last  all  the  year 
long.  Therefore  at  this  Fair  are  all  such  Merchandize  sold,  as  Houses, 
Lands,  Trades,  Places,  Honors,  Preferments,  Titles,  Countries,  King- 
doms, Lusts,  Pleasures  and  Delights  of  all  sorts,  as  Whores,  Bawds, 
Wives,  Husbands,  Children,  Masters,  Servants,  Lives,  Blood,  Bodies, 
Souls,  Silver,  Gold,  Pearls,  Precious  Stones,  and  what  not. 


The  name  of  that  Town  is  Vanity ;  and  at  the  Town  there  is  a  Fair  kept,  called  Vanity-Fair. 


And  moreover,  at  this  Fair  there  is  at  all  times  to  be  seen  Jugglings, 
Cheats,  Games,  Plays,  Fools,  Apes,  Knaves,  and  Rogues,  and  that  of 
every  kind. 

Here  are  to  be  seen  too,  and  that  for  nothing,  Thefts,  Murders, 
Adulteries,  False-swearers,  and  that  of  a  blood-red  colour. 

And  as  in  other  fairs  of  less  moment,  there  are  the  several  Rows 
and  Streets,  under  their  proper  names,  where  such  and  such  Wares 
are  vended :  So  here  likewise,  you  have  the  proper  Places,  Rows, 
Streets,  {viz.  Countreys  and  Kingdoms,)  where  the  Wares  of  this 
Fair  are  soonest  to  be  found:  Here  is  the  Britain  Row,  the  French 
Row,  the  Italian  Row,  the  Spanish  Row,  the  German  Row,  where 
several  sorts  of  Vanities  are  to  be  sold.  But  as  in  other  fairs,  some 
one  Commodity  is  as  the  chief  of  all  the  fair,  so  the  Ware  of  Rome 
and  her  Merchandize  is  greatly  promoted  in  this  fair:  Only  our 
English  Nation,  with  some  others,  have  taken  a  dislike  thereat. 

Now,  as  I  said,  the  way  to  the  Coelestial  City  lies  just  through  this 
Tcnvn,  where  this  lusty  Fair  is  kept ;  and  he  that  will  go  to  the  City, 
and  yet  not  go  through  this  Town,  must  needs  go  out  of  the  World. 
The  Prince  of  Princes  himself,  when  here,  went  through  this  Toivn 
to  his  own  Country,  and  that  upon  a  Fair-day  too :  Yea,  and  as  I 
think,  it  was  Beelzebub  the  chief  Lord  of  this  Fair,  that  invited  him  to 
buy  of  his  Vanities ;  yea,  would  have  made  him  Lord  of  the  Fair,  would 
he  but  have  done  him  Reverence  as  he  went  through  the  Town.  Yea, 
because  he  was  such  a  person  of  Honour,  Beelzebub  had  him  from 
Street  to  Street,  and  shewed  him  all  the  Kingdoms  of  the  World  in  a 
little  time,  that  he  might,  if  possible,  allure  that  Blessed  One,  to  cheapen 
and  buy  some  of  his  Vanities.  But  he  had  no  mind  to  the  Merchan- 
dize, and  therefore  left  the  Toivn,  without  laying  out  so  much  as  one 
Farthing  upon  these  Vanities.  This  Fair  therefore  is  an  Ancient 
thing,  of  long  standing,  and  a  very  great  Fair. 

Now  these  Pilgrims,  as  I  said,  must  needs  go  through  this  fair.. 
Well,  so  they  did;  but  behold,  even  as  they  entred  into  the  fair,  all 
the  people  in  the  fair  were  moved,  and  the  Town  it  self  as  it  were  in  a 
Hubbub  about  them ;  and  that  for  several  reasons :  For, 

First,  The  Pilgrims  were  cloathed  with  such  kind  of  Raiment  as 
was  diverse  from  the  Raiment  of  any  that  Traded  in  that  fair.  The 
people  therefore  of  the  fair  made  a  great  gazing  upon  them.     Some 


/ 


lr>V''n 


said  they  were  Fools,  some  they  were  Bedlams,  and  some  they  are 
Outlandish-men. 

Secondly,  And  as  they  wondred  at  their  Apparel,  so  they  did  like- 
wise at  their  Speech,  for  few  could  understand  what  they  said ;  they 
naturally  spoke  the  Language  of  Canaan,  but  they  that  kept  the  fair, 
were  the  men  of  this  World :  so  that  from  one  end  of  the  fair  to  the 
other,  they  seemed  Barbarians  each  to  the  other. 

Thirdly,  But  that  which  did  not  a  little  amuse  the  Merchandisers, 
was,  that  these  Pilgrims  set  very  light  by  all  their  Wares,  they  cared 

not  so  much  as 
to  look  upon 
them :  and  if 
they  called  upon 
them  to  buy, 
they  would  put 
their  fingers  in 
their  ears,  and 
cry.  Turn  aivay 
mine  eyes  from 
beholding  van- 
ity; and  look 
upwards,  signi- 
fying that  their 
Trade  and 
Traffic  was  in 
Heaven. 

One  chanced 
mockingly,  be- 
holding the  car- 
riages of  the 
men,  to  say  un- 
to them,  What 
will    ye    buy  ? 


& 


^ 


w. 


fj 


All  the  people  in  the  fair  were  moved,  and  the  Town  it  self  as  it  were  ^'    ^^'^~ 

in  a  Hubbub  about  them.  ing  gravely 

98 


upon  him,  said,  We  buy  the  Truth.  At  that,  there  was  an  occasion 
taken  to  despise  the  men  the  more ;  some  mocking,  some  taunting, 
some  speaking  reproachfully,  and  some  calling  upon  others  to  smite 
them.     At  last  things  came  to  an  hubbub  and  great  stir  in  the  fair,  in 
so  much  that  all  order  was  confounded.     Now  was  word  presently 
brought   to  the  Great  One  of   the  fair,   who  quickly  came   down, 
and  deputed  some  of  his  most  trusty  friends  to  take  these  men  into 
examination,      about 
whom  the  fair  was 
almost       overturned. 
So    the    men    were 
brought  to  examina- 
tion;  and  they  that 
sat  upon  them  asked 
them    whence    they 
came,    whither    they 
went,  and  what  they 
did  there  in  such  an 
unusual  Garb?    The 
men   told  them,  that 
they    were    Pilgrims 
and  Strangers  in  the 
World,  and  that  they 
were   going  to  their 
own  Country,  which 
was  the  Heavenly ye- 
rusalem;    and     that 
they  had  given  none 
occasion  to  the  men  of 
the  Town,  nor  yet  to 
the      Merchandisers, 
thus  to  abuse  them, 
and  to  let  them  in  their 
Journey.     Except     it 


asked  them  what  they  would  buy,  they  said  they  would  buy  the  Truth. 
But  they  that  were  appointed  to  examine  them  did  not  believe  them  to 
be  any  other  than  Bedlams  and  Mad,  or  else  such  as  came  to  put  all 
things  into  a  confusion  in  the  fair.  Therefore  they  took  them  and  beat 
them,  and  besmeared  them  with  dirt,  and  then  put  them  into  the  Cage, 
that  they  might  be  made  a  Spectacle  to  all  the  men  of  the  fair.  There 
therefore  they  lay  for  some  time,  and  were  made  the  objects  of  any  mans 
sport,  or  malice,  or  revenge.  The  Great  One  of  the  fair  laughing  still  at 
all  that  befel  them.  But  the  men  being  patient,  and  not  rendering  railing 
for  railing,  but  contrarywise  blessing,  and  giving  good  words  for  bad, 
and  kindness  for  injuries  done,  some  men  in  the  fair  that  were  more 
observing,  and  less  prejudiced  than  the  rest,  began  to  check  and  blame 
the  baser  sort  for  their  continual  abuses  done  by  them  to  the  men. 
They  therefore  in  angry  manner  let  fly  at  them  again,  counting  them 

as  bad  as  the  men  in  the  Cage, 


iriaiiKii9miii'."ri''ii«niiiiKfi 


._...!.-_ 


•"X 


Therefore  they  put  them  into  the  Cage,  that  they  might 
be  made  a  Spectacle  to  all  the  men  of  the  fair. 

100 


and  telling  them  that  they 
seemed  confederates,  and 
should  be  made  partakers  of 
their  misfortunes.  The  other 
replied.  That  for  ought  they 
could  see,  the  men  were  quiet, 
and  sober,  and  intended  no- 
body any  harm ;  and  that  there 
were  many  that  traded  in  their 
fair,  that  were  more  worthy  to 
be  put  into  the  Cage,  yea,  and 
Pillory  too,  than  were  the  men 
that  they  Jiad  abused.  Thus, 
after  divers  words  had  passed 
on  both  sides,  (the  men  behav- 
ing themselves  all  the  while 
very  wisely  and  soberly  before 
them,)  they  fell  to  some  Blows, 
and  did  harm  one  to  another. 
Then  were  these  two  poor  men 
brought  before  their  Examiners 
again,  and  there  charged  as 


mm 


0SI^ 


y-i 


1 


So  they  beat  them  pitifully,  and  hanged  irons  upon  them,  and  led  them 
in  chains  up  and  down  the  fair. 

being  guilty  of  the  late  Hubbub  that  had  been  in  the  fair.  So  they  beat 
them  pitifully,  and  hanged  irons  upon  them,  and  led  them  in  chains  up 
and  down  the  fair,  for  an  example  and  a  terror  to  others,  lest  any 
should  further  speak  in  their  behalf,  or  join  themselves  unto  them. 
But  Christian  and  Faithful  behaved  themselves  yet  more  wisely,  and 
received  the  ignominy  and  shame  that  was  cast  upon  them,  with  so 
much  meekness  and  patience,  that  it  won  to  their  side  (though  but  few 
in  comparison  of  the  rest)  several  of  the  men  in  the  fair.  This  put  the 
other  party  yet  into  a  greater  rage,  insomuch  that  they  concluded  the 
death  of  these  two  men.  Wherefore  they  threatned  that  the  Cage  nor 
irons  should  serve  their  turn,  but  that  they  should  die,  for  the  abuse 
they  had  done,  and  for  deluding  the  men  of  the  fair. 

Then  were  they  remanded  to  the  Cage  again  until  further  order 
should  be  taken  with  them.  So  they  put  them  in,  and  made  their  feet 
fast  in  the  Stocks. 

Here  also  they  called  again  to  mind  what  they  had  heard  from  their 
faithful  friend  Ebangelist,  and  was  the  more  confirmed  in  their  way 
and  sufferings,  by  what  he  told  them  would  happen  to  them.  They 
also  now  comforted  each  other,  that  whose  lot  it  was  to  suffer,  that 
even  he  should  have  the  best  on't ;  therefore  each  man  secretly  wished 
that  he  might  have  that  preferment ;  but  committing  themselves  to  the 
All-wise  dispose  of  him  that  ruleth  all  things,  with  much  content  they 


©.^-•o 


d^ 


'®^ 


>;o9^ 


abode  in  the  condition  in  which  they  were,  until  they  should  be 
otherwise  disposed  of. 

Then  a  convenient  time  being  appointed,  they  brought  them  forth 
to  their  Tryal  in  order  to  their  Qjndemnation.  When  the  time  was 
come,  they  were  brought  before  their  Enemies  and  arraigned;  the 
Judge's  name  was  Lord  Hate-good,  Their  indictment  was  one  and 
the  same  in  substance,  though  somewhat  varying  in  form;  the 
Contents  whereof  was  this. 

That  they  ivere  enemies  to,  and  disturbers  of  their  Trade  ;  that  they 
had  made  Commotions  and  Divisions  in  the  To'wn,  and  had  ivon  a 
party  to  their  oJirn  most  dangerous  opinions,  in  contempt  of  the  Laiv 
of  their  Prince, 

Then  Faithful  began  to  answer,  That  he  had  only  set  himself 
against  that  which  had  set  itself  against  him  that  is  higher  than  the 
highest.  And  said  he.  As  for  disturbance,  I  make  none,  being  myself 
a  man  of  Peace ;  the  Parties  that  were  won  to  us,  were  won  by  be- 
holding our  Truth  and  Innocence,  and  they  are  only  turned  from  the 
worse  to  the  better.  And  as  to  the  King  you  talk  of,  since  he  is 
Beelzebub,  the  Enemy  of  our  Lord,  I  defy  him  and  all  his  Angels. 

Then  Proclamation  was  made,  that  they  that  had  ought  to  say  for 
their  Lord  the  King  against  the  Prisoner  at  the  Bar,  should  forthwith 
appear  and  give  in  their  evidence.  So  there  came  in  three  Witnesses, 
to  "vvit.  Envy,  Superstition,  and  Pickthank.  They  were  then  asked,  If 
they  knew  the  Prisoner  at  the  Bar  ?  and  what  they  had  to  say  for  their 
Lord  the  King  against  him  ? 

Then  stood  forth  Envy,  and  said  to  this  effect ;  My  Lord,  I  have 
known  this  man  a  long  time,  and  will  attest  upon  my  Oath  before  this 
honourable  Bench,  That  he  is 

Judge.  Hold,  give  him  his  Oath ; 

So  they  sware  him.  Then  he  said.  My  Lord,  This  man,  notwith- 
standing his  plausible  name,  is  one  of  the  vilest  men  in  our  Country ; 
he  neither  regardeth  Prince  nor  People,  Law  nor  Custom :  but  doth  all 
that  he  can  to  possess  all  men  with  certain  of  his  disloyal  notions, 
which  he  in  the  general  calls  Principles  of  Faith  and  Holiness.  And 
in  particular,  I  heard  him  once  myself  affirm.  That  Christianity  and 
the  Customs  of  our  Toivn  of  Vanity,  'were  Diametrically  opposite, 
and  could  not  be  reconciled.     By  which  saying,  my  Lord,  he  doth 


L®. 


102 


m 


0  ^ 


Envy,  Superstition,  and  Pickthank, 


at  once,  not  only  condemn  all  our  laudable  doings,  but  us  in  the 
doing  of  them. 

Judge.    Then  did  the  Judge  say  to  him,  Hast  thou  any  more  to  say  ? 

Envy.  My  Lord  I  could  say  much  more,  only  I  would  not  be  tedi- 
ous to  the  Court.  Yet  if  need  be,  when  the  other  Gentlemen  have 
given  in  their  Evidence,  rather  than  anything  shall  be  wanting  that 
'(i)S  will  dispatch  him,  I  will  enlarge  my  Testimony  against  him.  So  he 
,(|  was  bid  stand  by.  Then  they  called  Superstition,  and  bid  him  look 
upon  the  Prisoner ;  they  also  asked.  What  he  could  say  for  their  Lord 
the  King  against  him  ?     Then  they  sware  him,  so  he  began. 

Super.  My  Lord,  I  have  no  great  acquaintance  with  this  man,  nor 
do  I  desire  to  have  further  knowledge  of  him ;  However  this  I  know, 
that  he  is  a  very  pestilent  fellow,  from  some  discourse  that  the  other 
day  I  had  with  him  in  this  Toiun  ;  for  then  talking  with  him,  I  heard 
him  say.  That  our  Religion  was  naught,  and  such  by  which  a  man 
could  by  no  means  please  God :  which  sayings  of  his,  my  Lord,  your 
Lordship  very  well  knows,  what  necessarily  thence  will  follow,  to  ivit, 
That  we  still  do  worship  in  vain,  are  yet  in  our  Sins,  and  finally  shall 
be  damned ;  and  this  is  that  which  I  have  to  say. 

Then  was  Pickthank  sworn,  and  bid  say  what  he  knew,  in  behalf 
of  their  Lord  the  King  against  the  Prisoner  at  the  Bar. 

103 


^^1^^ 


'» 


Pick.  My  Lord,  and  you  gentlemen  all,  This  fellow  I  have  knowii 
of  a  long  time,  and  have  heard  him  speak  things  that  ought  not  to  be 
spoke.  For  he  hath  railed  on  our  noble  Prince  Beelzebub,  and  hath 
spoke  contemptibly  of  his  honourable  Friends,  whose  names  are  the 
Lord  Oldman,  the  Lord  Carnal-delight,  the  Lord  Luxurious,  the  Lord 
Desire  of  Vainglory,  my  old  Lord  Lechery,  Sir  Having  Greedy,  with 
all  the  rest  of  our  Nobility ;  and  he  hath  said  moreover,  that  if  all  men 
were  of  his  mind,  if  possible,  there  is  not  one  of  these  Noblemen  should 
have  any  longer  a  being  in  this  Town.  Besides,  he  hath  not  been 
afraid  to  rail  on  you,  my  Lord,  who  are  now  appointed  to  be  his  Judge, 
calling  you  an  ungodly  Villain,  with  many  other  such  like  vilifying 
terms,  with  which  he  hath  bespattered  most  of  the  Gentry  of  our  Town. 

When  this  Pickthank  had  told  his 
tale,  the  Judge  directed  his  speech  to 
the  Prisoner  at  the  Bar,  saying. 
Thou  Runagate,  Heretick,  and 
Traitor,  hast  thou  heard  what  these 
honest  Gentlemen  have  witnessed 
against  thee? 

Faith.  cMay  L  speak  a  fetv 
'words  in  my  o'itin  defence? 

Judge.  Sirrah,  Sirrah,  thou  de- 
servest  to  live  no  longer,  but  to  be 
slain  immediately  upon  the  place; 
yet  that  all  men  may  see  our  gentle- 
ness towards  thee,  let  us  see  what 
thou  hast  to  say. 

Faith.  I .  I  say  then  in  answer 
to  what  Mr.  Enl^y  hath  spoken,  I 
never  said  ought  but  this.  That  ivhat 
Rule,  or  Laivs,  or  Custom,  or  Peo- 
ple, ivere  flat  against  the  Word  of 
God,  are  diametrically  opposite  to 
Christianity.  If  I  have  said  amiss 
in  this,  convince  me  of  my  error,  and 
I  am  ready  here  before  you  to  make 
my  recantation. 

101 


The  Lord  Luxurious. 


^^^^s^^^^ 


^^SWM 


^m 


2.  As  to  the  second,  to  wit,  Mr.  Superstition,  and  his  charge  against 
me,  I  said  only  this,  That  in  the  ivorship  of  God  there  is  required  a  di- 
vine Faith  ;  but  there  can  he  no  divine  Faith  -without  a  divine  Revela- 
tion of  the  'will  of  God:  therefore  ivhatever  is  thrust  into  theli^orship 
of  God,  that  is  not  agreeable  to  divine  Revelation,  cannot  be  done  but 
by  an  human  Faith  ;  ivhich  Faith  ivill  not  be  profit  to  Eternal  life. 

3.  As  to  what  Mr.  Pickthank  hath  said,  I  say,  (avoiding  terms,  as 
that  I  am  said  to  rail,  and  the  like)  That  the  Prince  of  this  Town,  with 
all  the  Rabblement  his  Attendants,  by  this  Gentleman  named,  are  more 
fit  for  a  being  in  Hell,  than  in  this  Town  and  Country ;  and  so  the 
Lord  have  mercy  upon  me. 

Then  the  Judge  called  to  the  Jury  (who  all  this  while  stood  by,  to 
hear  and  observe)  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  you  see  this  man  about  whom 
so  great  an  uproar  hath  been  made  in  this  Town:  you  have  also 
heard  what  these  worthy  Gentlemen  have  witnessed  against  him ;  also 
you  have  heard  his  reply  and  confession :  It  lieth  now  in  your  breasts 
to  hang  him,  or  save  his  life.  But  yet  I  think  meet  to  instruct  you  into 
our  Law. 

There  was  an  Act  made  in  the  days  of  Pharaoh  the  Great,  Servant 
to  our  Prince,  That  lest  those  of  a  contrary  Religion  should  multiply 
and  grow  too  strong  for  him,  their  Males  should  be  thrown  into  the 
River.     There  was  also  an  Act  made  in  the  days  of  Nebuchadnezzar 


The  Lord  Carnal-delight. 
105 


^ 

r^^^ 


He  deserveth  to  die  the  death. 


the  Great,  another  of  his  Servants,  that  whoever  would  not  fall  down 
and  worship  his  golden  Image,  should  be  thrown  into  a  fiery  Furnace. 
There  was  also  an  Act  made  in  the  days  of  Darius,  That  whoso,  for 
some  time,  called  upon  any  God  but  him,  should  be  cast  into  the  Lions' 
Den.  Now  the  substance  of  these  Laws  this  Rebel  has  broken,  not 
only  in  thought  (which  is  not  to  be  borne)  but  also  in  word  and  deed ; 
which  must  therefore  needs  be  intolerable. 

For  that  of  Pharaoh,  his  Law  was  made  upon  a  supposition,  to  pre- 
vent mischief,  no  Crime  being  yet  apparent ;  but  here  is  a  Crime  ap- 
parent. For  the  second  and  third,  you  see  he  disputeth  against  our 
Religion ;  and  for  the  Treason  he  hath  confessed,  he  deserveth  to  die 
the  death. 

Then  went  the  Jury  out,  whose  names  were,  Mr.  Blind-man,  Mr.  No- 
good,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr.  Love-last,  Mr.  Live-loose,  Mr.  Heady,  Mr. 
High-mind,  Mr.  Enmity,  Mr.  Lyar,  Mr.  Cruelty,  Mr.  Hate-light,  and 
Mr.  Implacable,  who  every  one  gave  in  his  private  Verdict  against  him 
among  themselves,  and  afterwards  unanimously  concluded  to  bring 
him  in  guilty  before  the  Judge.  And  first  Mr.  Blind-man  the  Fore- 
man, said,  I  see  clearly  that  this  man  is  an  Heretick.  Then  said  Mr. 
No-good,  Aivay  ivith  such  a  fellow  from  the  Earth.  Ay,  said  Mr. 
Malice,  for  I  hate  thet>ery  looks  of  him.  Then  said  Mr.  Love-lust, 
I  could  never  endure  him.  Nor  I,  said  Mr.  Live-loose,  for  he  would 
always  be  condemning  my  way.  Hang  him,  hang  him,  said  Mr. 
Heady.  A  sorry  Scrub,  said  Mr.  High-mind.  My  heart  riseth  against 
him,  said  Mr.  Enmity.  He  is  a  l^gue,  said  Mr.  Lyar,  Hanging  is 
too  good  for  him,  said  Mr.  Cruelty.  Lets  dispatch  him  out  of  the 
ti)ay,  said  Mr.  Hate-light.  Then  said  Mr.  Implacable,  cMight  I  have 
all  the  World  given  me,  I  could  not  be  reconciled  to  him,  thtrefore  let 
us  forthwith  bring  him  in  guilty  of  death  ;  And  so  they  did,  therefore 
he  was  presently  condemned.  To  be  had  from  the  place  where  he  was, 
to  the  place  from  whence  he  came,  and  there  to  be  put  to  the  most 
cruel  death  that  could  be  invented. 

They  therefore  brought  him  out,  to  do  with  him  according  to  their 
Law ;  and  first  they  Scourged  him,  then  they  Buffeted  him,  then  they 
Lanced  his  flesh  with  Knives ;  after  that,  they  Stoned  him  with  Stones, 
then  prickt  him  with  their  Swords,  and  last  of  all  they  burned  him  to 


107 


^ 


Ashes  at  the  Stake.  Thus  came  Faithful  to  his  end.  Now,  I  saw- 
that  there  stood  behind  the  multitude,  a  Chariot  and  a  couple  of  Horses, 
waiting  for  Faithful,  who  (so  soon  as  his  adversaries  had  dispatched 
him)  was  taken  up  into  it,  and  straightway  was  carried  up  through 
the  Clouds,  with  sound  of  Trumpet,  the  nearest  way  to  the  Coelcstial 
Gate.  But  as  for  Christian,  he  had  some  respit,  and  was  remanded 
back  to  prison,  so  he  there  remained  for  a  space.  But  he  that  over- 
rules all  things,  having  the  power  of  their  rage  in  his  own  hand,  so 
wrought  it  about,  that  Christian  for  that  time  escaped  them,  and  went 
his  way. 

And  as  he  went  he  sang,  saying. 

Well,  Faitliful,  thou  hast  faithfully  profest 
Unto  thy  Lord :  ivith  ivhom  thou  shalt  be  blest  f 
When  Faithless  ones,  ivith  all  their  vain  delights, 
c/lre  crying  out  under  their  hellish  plights. 
Sing,  Faitliful,  sing  ;  and  let  thy  name  survive. 
For  though  they  kill'd  thee,  thou  art  yet  alive. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  Christian  went  not  forth  alone,  for 
there  was  one  whose  name  was  Hopeful,  (being  made  so  by  the  be- 
holding of  Christian  and  Faithful  in  their  words  and  behaviour,  in 
their  sufferings  at  the  fair)  who  joyned  himself  unto  him,  and  entering 
into  a  brotherly  covenant,  told  him  that  he  would  be  his  Companion. 
Thus  one  died  to  make  Testimony  to  the  Truth,  and  another  rises 
out  of  his  Ashes  to  be  a  Companion  with  Christian.  This  Hopeful 
also  told  Christian,  that  there  were  many  more  of  the  men  in  the  fair 
that  would  take  their  time  and  follow  after. 

So  I  saw  that  quickly  after  they  were  got  out  of  the  fair,  they  over- 
took one  that  was  going  before  them,  whose  name  was  By-ends  ;  so 
they  said  to  him,  What  Country-man,  Sir?  and  how  far  go  you 
this  way?  He  told  them.  That  he  came  from  the  Town  of  Fair- 
speech,  and  he  was  going  to  the  Ccelestial  City,  (but  told  them  not 
his  name.) 

From  Fair-speech,  said  Christian ;  is  there  any  that  be  good  live 
there  } 

By-ends.  Yes,  said  By-ends,  I  hope. 

Chr.  Pray  Sir,  ivhat  may  I  call  you  ? 

108 


By-ends.  I  am  a  Stranger  to  you,  and  you  to  me ;  if  you  be  going 
this  way,  I  shall  be  glad  of  your  Company ;  if  not,  I  must  be  content. 

Chr.  This  ToJVn  of  Fair-speech,  /  have  heard  of  it,  and,  as  I 
remember,  they  say  it's  a  Wealthy  place. 

By-ends.  Yes,  I  will  assure  you  that  it  is,  and  I  have  very  many 
rich  Kindred  there. 

Chr.  Pray,  tfho  are  your  Kindred  there,  if  a  man  may  be  so 
bold? 

By-ends.  Almost  the  whole  Town;  and  in  particular,  my  Lord 
Turn-about,  my  Lord  Time-seiner,  my  Lord  Fair-speech,  (from  whose 
Ancestors  that  Town  first  took  its  name :)  Also  Mr.  Smooth-man, 
Mr.  Facing-bothivays,  Mr.  Any-thing,  and  the  Parson  of  our  Parish, 
Mr.  T'wo-tongues,  was  my  Mother's  own  Brother  by  Father's  side : 
And,  to  tell  you  the  Truth,  I  am  a  Gentleman  of  good  Quality ;  yet 
my  Great-Grandfather  was  but  a  Water-man,  looking  one  way,  and 
rowing  another ;  and  I  got  most  of  my  Estate  by  the  same  occupation. 

Chr.   Are  you  a  married  man  ? 

By-ends.  Yes,  and  my  Wife  is  a  very  vertuous  Woman,  the  Daugh- 
ter of  a  vertuous  Woman.  She  was  my  Lady  Fainings  Daughter, 
therefore  she  came  of  a  very  Honourable  Family,  and  is  arrived  at  such 
a  pitch  of  Breeding,  that  she  knows  how  to  carry  it  to  all,  even  to 
Prince  and  Peasant.  'Tis  true,  we  somewhat  differ  in  Religion  from 
those  of  the  stricter  sort,  yet  but  in  two  small  points :  First,  we 
never  strive  against  Wind  and  Tide.  Secondly,  we  are  always 
most  zealous  when  Religion  goes  in  his  Silver  Slippers ;  we  love 
much  to  walk  with  him  in  the  Street,  if  the  Sun  shines,  and  the  people 
applaud  it. 

Then  Christian  stept  a  little  a  to-side  to  his  fellow  Hopeful,  saying. 
It  runs  in  my  mind  that  this  is  one  By-ends  of  Fair-speech,  and  if  it  be 
he,  we  have  as  very  a  Knave  in  our  Company  as  dwelleth  in  all  these 
parts.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Ask  him  ;  methinks  he  should  not  be 
ashamed  of  his  name.  So  Christian  came  up  with  him  again,  and 
said,  Sir,  you  talk  as  if  you  knew  something  more  than  all  the  World 
doth,  and  if  I  take  not  my  mark  amiss,  I  deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of 
you :  Is  not  your  name  Mr.  'By-ends  of  Fair-speech  ? 

By-ends.  That  is  not  my  name,  but  indeed  it  is  a  Nickname  that 
is  given  me  by  some  that  cannot  abide  me,  and  I  must  be  content  to 


I 


110 


I.I..1 11 


r;^":«^ 


And  last  of  all  they  burned  him  to  Ashes  at  the  Stake.     Thus  came  Faithful  to  his  end. 


r«l 


bear  it  as  a  reproach,  as 
other  good  men  have  borne 
theirs  before  me. 

Chr.  But  did  you  never 
gilje  an  occasion  to  men  to 
call  you  by  this  name  ? 

By-ends.  Never,  never! 
the  worst  that  ever  I  did  to 
give  them  an  occasion  to 
give  me  this  name,  was, 
that  I  had  always  the  luck 
to  jump  in  my  Judgment 
with  the  present  way  of 
the  times,  whatever  it  was, 
and  my  chance  was  to  get 
thereby;  but  if  things  are 
thus  cast  upon  me,  let  me 
count  them  a  blessing,  but 
let  not  the  malicious  load 
me  therefore  with  re- 
proach. 

There  was  one  whose  name  was  Hopeful,  who  ^HR.     /  tflOUgflt    indeed, 

joyned  himself  unto  him.  that  you  ivas  the  man  that 

I  had  heard  of,  and  to  tell  you  <what  Ithink,  I  fear  this  name  belongs 
to  you  more  properly  than  you  are  ivilling  ive  should  think  it  doth. 

By-ends.  Well,  if  you  will  thus  imagine,  I  cannot  help  it.  You 
shall  find  me  a  fair  Company-keeper,  if  you  will  still  admit  me  your 
associate. 

Chr.  If  you  ivill  go  ivith  us,  you  must  go  against  Wind  and  Tide, 
the  ivhich,  I  percei'be,  is  against  your  opinion :  You  must  also  own 
Religion  in  his  Rags,  as  l^ell  as  ivhen  in  his  Silver  Slippers,  and  stand 
by  him  too,  ivhen  bound  in  Irons,  as  ivell  as  ivhen  he  ivalketh  the 
Streets  ivith  applause. 

By-ends.  You  must  not  impose,  nor  lord  it  over  my  Faith ;  leave 
me  to  my  liberty,  and  let  me  go  with  you. 

Chr.  Not  a  step  further,  unless  you  'Vt)ill  do  in  Ji)hat  I  propound, 
as  ive. 

112 


/ 


:l 


Then  said  By-ends,  I  shall  never  desert  my  old  Principles,  since  they 
are  harmless  and  profitable.  If  I  may  not  go  with  you,  I  must  do  as  I 
did  before  you  overtook  me,  even  go  by  myself,  until  some  overtake 
me  that  will  be  glad  of  my  Company. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  and  Hopeful,  forsook  him, 
and  kept  their  distance  before  him;  but  one  of  them  looking  back, 
saw  three  men  following  Mr.  By-ends,  and  behold,  as  they  came 
up  with  him,  he  made  them  a  very  low  Congee,  and  they  also  gave 
him  a  Compliment.  The  men's  names  were  Mr.  Hold-the-  World,  Mr. 
cMony-love,  and  Mr.  Save-all;  men  that  Mr.  By-ends  had  formerly 
been  acquainted  with;  for  in  their  minority  they  were  schoolfellow, 
and  were  taught  by  one  Mr.  Gripe-man,  a  School-master  in  Love- 
gain,  which  is  a  market  town 
in  the  County  of  Coveting  in 
the  North.  This  School-mas- 
ter taught  them  the  art  of  get- 
ting, either  by  violence,  cous- 
enage,  flattery,  lying,  or  by 
putting  on  a  guise  of  Religion; 
and  these  four  Gentlemen  had 
attained  much  of  the  art  of  their 
Master,  so  that  they  could  each 
of  them  have  kept  such  a  School 
themselves. 

Well  when  they  had,  as  I 
said,  thus  saluted  each  other^ 
Mr.  Mony-love  said  to  Mr.  By- 
ends.  Who  are  they  upon  the 
Road  before  us  ?  For  Christian 
and  Hopeful  were  yet  within 
view. 

By-ends.  They  are  a  couple 
of  far  country-men,  that  after 
their  mode,  are  going  on  Pil- 
grimage. 

Mony-love.  Alas,  why  did 
they  not  stay  that  we  n'dght 


They  overtook  one  that  was  going  before  them, 

whose  name  was  By-ends. 
U3 


rrrs 


15 


^0^^-^ 


I 


^t 


% 


have  had  their  good  company,  for  they,  and  ive,  and  you  Sir,  I  hope, 
are  all  going  on  Pilgrimage. 

By-ENDS.  We  are  so  indeed,  but  the  men  before  us  are  so  rigid,  and 
love  so  much  their  own  notions,  and  do  also  so  lightly  esteem  the 
Opinions  of  others ;  that  let  a  man  be  never  so  godly,  yet  if  he  jumps 
not  with  them  in  all  things,  they  thrust  him  quite  out  of  their 
company. 

Save-all.  That's  bad;  But  we  read  of  some,  that  are  righteous 
over-much,  and  such  men's  rigidness  prevails  with  them  to  judge  and 
condemn  all  but  themselves.  But  I  pray  ivhat  and  honx)  many,  were 
the  things  wherein  you  differed. 

By-ends.  Why  they  after  their  headstrong  manner,  conclude  that  it 
is  duty  to  rush  on  their  Journey  all  weathers,  and  I  am  for  waiting  for 
Wind  and  Tide.  They  are  for  hazarding  all  for  God,  at  a  clap,  and  I 
am  for  taking  all  advantages  to  secure  my  life  and  estate.  They  are 
for  holding  their  notions,  though  all  other  men  are  against  them ;  but 
I  am  for  Religion  in  what,  and  so  far  as  the  times,  and  my  safety  will 
bear  it.  They  are  for  Religion,  when  in  rags,  and  contempt ;  but  I 
am  for  him  when  he  walks  in  his  golden  slippers  in  the  Sun-shine, 
and  with  applause. 

HoLD-THE- World.  Ay,  and  hold  you  there  still,  good  Mr.  By-ends, 
for,  for  my  part,  I  can  count  him  but  a  fool,  that  having  the  liberty  to 
keep  what  he  has,  shall  be  so  unwise  as  to  lose  it.  Let  us  be  wise  as 
Serpents,  'tis  best  to  make  hay  when  the  Sun  shines ;  you  see  how  the 
Bee  lieth  still  all  winter  and  bestirs  her  then  only  when  she  can  have 
profit  with  pleasure.  God  sends  sometimes  Rain,  and  sometimes  Sun- 
shine ;  if  they  be  such  fools  to  go  through  the  first,  yet  let  us  be  con- 
tent to  take  fair  weather  along  with  us.  For  my  part  I  like  that 
Religion  best,  that  will  stand  with  the  security  of  God's  good  blessings 
unto  us ;  for  who  can  imagine  that  is  ruled  by  his  reason,  since  God 
has  bestowed  upon  us  the  good  things  of  this  life,  but  that  he  would 
have  us  keep  them  for  his  sake.  Abraham  and  Solomon  grew  rich  in 
Religion.  And  Job  says,  that  a  good  man  shall  lay  up  gold  as  dust. 
But  he  must  not  be  such  as  the  men  before  us,  if  they  be  as  you  have 
described  them. 

Save-all.  I  think  that  we  are  all  agreed  in  this  matter,  and  there- 

114 


PG^ 


e^ 


^i 


t3\ 


:C 


fore  there  needs  no  more  words 
about  it. 

MoNY-LOVE.  No,  there 
needs  no  more  words  about 
this  matter  indeed,  for  he  that 
believes  neither  Scripture  nor 
reason  (and  you  see  we  have 
both  on  our  side)  neither 
knows  his  own  liberty,  nor 
seeks  his  own  safety. 

By-ends.  My  Brethren,  we 
are,  as  you  see,  going  all  on 
Pilgrimage,  and  for  our  bet- 
ter diversion  from  things  that 
arc  bad,  give  me  leave  to 
propound  unto  you  this  ques- 
tion. 

Suppose  a  man,  a  Minister, 
or  a  Tradesman,  &c,  should 
have  an  advantage  lie  before 
him  to  get  the  good  blessings 
of  this  life.  Yet  so,  as  that 
he  can  by  no  means  come  by 
them,  except,  in  appearance  at 
least,  he  becomes  extraordi- 
nary Zealous  in  some  points  of  Religion,  that  he  meddled  not  Jijith  be- 
fore, may  he  not  use  this  means  to  attain  his  end,  and  yet  be  a  right 
honest  man  ? 

MoNY-LOVE.  I  see  the  bottom  of  your  question,  and  with  these 
Gentlemen's  good  leave,  I  will  endeavour  to  shape  you  an  answer. 
And  first  to  speak  to  your  question,  as  it  concerns  a  Minister  himself. 
Suppose  a  Minister,  a  "worthy  man,  possessed  but  of  a  very  small 
benefice,  and  has  in  his  eye  a  greater,  more  fat,  and  plump  by  far  ;  he 
has  also  ncnv  an  opportunity  of  getting  of  it ;  yet  so  as  by  being  more 
studious,  by  preaching  more  frequently  and  zealously,  and  because  the 
temper  of  the  people  requires  it,  by  altering  of  some  of  his  principles  ; 

115 


Mr.  Mony-Iove. 


^-^( 


^<S 


;^ 


^fL 

^m 

3k\Vv 

^^^j/C- 

^iK 

^>s^ 

F^04 

III  vofti. 

y^vi^-^^i 

vJai 

|ig 

''►> 


SN* 


.* 


>y. 


lo«  o  •! 


for  my  part  1  see  no  reason  but  a.  man  may  do  this  (provided  he  has  a 
call,)  ay,  and  more  a  great  deal  besides,  and  yet  be  an  honest  man. 
For  why, 

J.  His  desire  of  a  greater  benefice  is  lawful  (this  cannot  be  contra- 
dicted) since  'tis  set  before  him  by  providence ;  so  then,  he  may  get  it 
if  he  can,  making  no  question  for  conscience  sake. 

2.  Besides,  his  desire  after  that  benefice  makes  him  more  studious,  a 
more  zealous  preacher,  &c.  and  so  makes  him  a  better  man.  Yea 
makes  him  better  improve  his  parts,  which  is  according  to  the  mind  of 
God. 

3.  Now  as  for  his  complying  with  the  temper  of  his  people,  by  dis- 
senting, to  serve  them,  some  of  his  principles,  this  argueth,  I.  That  he 
is  of  a  self-denying  temper.  2.  Of  a  sweet  and  winning  deportment. 
3.  And  so  more  fit  for  the  Ministerial  function. 

4.  I  conclude  then,  that  a  Minister  that  changes  a  small  for  a  great, 
should  not,  for  so  doing,  be  judged  as  covetous,  but  rather,  since  he  is 
improved  in  his  parts  and  industry  thereby,  be  counted  as  one  that 
pursues  his  call,  and  the  opportunity  put  into  his  hand  to  do  good. 

And  now  to  the  second  part  of  the  question  which  concerns  the 
Tradesman  you  mentioned:  suppose  such  an  one  to  have  but  a  poor 
imploy  in  the  world,  but  by  becoming  Religious,  he  may  mend  his 
market,  perhaps  get  a  rich  wife,  or  more  and  far  better  customers  to 
his  shop.  For  my  part  I  see  no  reason  but  that  this  may  be  lawfully 
done.     For  why, 

1.  To  become  religious  is  a  vertue,  by  what  means  soever  a  man 
becomes  so. 

2.  Nor  is  it  unlawful  to  get  a  rich  wife,  or  more  custom  to  my 
shop. 

3.  Besides  the  man  that  gets  these  by  becoming  religious,  gets 
that  which  is  good,  of  them  that  are  good,  by  becoming  good  him- 
self; so  then  here  is  a  good  wife,  and  good  customers,  and  good  gain, 
and  all  these  by  becoming  religious,  which  is  good.  Therefore  to  be- 
come religious  to  get  all  these  is  a  good  and  profitable  design. 

This  answer,  thus  made  by  this  Mr.  cMony-love  to  Mr.  By-ends 
question,  was  highly  applauded  by  them  all ;  wherefore  they  concluded 
upon  the  whole,  that  it  was  most  wholsome  and  advantageous.  And 
because,  as  they  thought,  no  man  was  able  to  contradict  it,  and  because 


^^ 


no 


^/ 


Christian  and  Hopeful  was  yet  within  call,  they  joyntly  agreed  to 
assault  them  with  the  question  as  soon  as  they  overtook  them,  and  the 
rather  because  they  had  opposed  Mr.  By-ends  before.  So  they  called 
^^  after  them,  and  they  stopt,  and  stood  still  till  they  came  up  to  them ; 
but  they  concluded  as  they  went,  that  not  Mr.  By-ends,  but  old  Mr. 
Hold-the-Ji>orld  should  propound  the  question  to  them,  because,  as  they 
supposed,  their  answer  to  him  would  be  without  the  remainder  of  that 
heat  that  was  kindled  betwixt  Mr.  By-ends  and  them,  at  their  parting 
a  little  before. 

So  they  came  up  to  each  other  and  after  a  short  salutation,  Mr. 
Hold-the-  World  propounded  the  question  to  Christian  and  his  fellow, 
and  bid  them  to  answer  it  if  they  could. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  even  a  babe  in  Religion  may  answer  ten 
thousand  such  questions.  For  if  it  be  unlawful  to  follow  Christ  for  loaves, 
as  it  is,  Job.  6.  How  much  more  abominable  is  it  to  make  of  him  and 
religion  a  stalking  horse  to  get  and 
enjoy  the  world.  Nor  do  we  find 
any  other  than  Heathens,  Hypo-  ^^.^^^^^^^^ 
crites.  Devils  and  Witches  that  are  ^^^^to/V^ 
of  this  opinion.  "  ' 

\.  Heathens,  for  when  Hamor 
and  Shechem  had  a  mind  to  the 
Daughter  and  Cattle  oi  Jacob,  and 
saw  that  there  was  no  ways  for 
them  to  come  at  them,  but  by  be- 
coming circumcised,  they  say  to 
their  companions ;  K  every  male  of 
us  be  circumcised,  as  they  are  cir- 
cumcised, shall  not  their  Cattle,  and 
their  substance,  and  every  beast  of 
theirs  be  ours?  Their  Daughter 
and  their  Cattle  were  that  which 
they  sought  to  obtain,  and  their  Re- 
ligion the  stalking  horse  they  made 
use  of  to  come  at  them.  Read  the 
whole  story.  Gen.  34.  20, 2  J,  22, 23. 

2.    The   Hypocritical   Pharisees  Mr.Save-aK. 

117 


M. 


«/^ 


^^ 


were  also  of  this  Religion,  long  prayers  were  their  pretence,  but  to  get 
widows'  houses  were  their  intent,  and  greater  damnation  was  from  God 
their  Judgment,  Lake  20.  46,  47. 

3.  Judas  the  Devil  was  also  of  this  Religion,  he  was  religious  for 
the  bag,  that  he  might  be  possessed  of  what  was  therein ;  but  he  was 
lost,  cast  away,  and  the  very  Son  of  perdition. 

4.  Simon  the  witch  was  of  this  Religion  too,  for  he  would  have  had 
the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he  might  have  got  money  therewith,  and  his 
sentence  from  Peter's  mouth  was  according,  Acts  8.  J  9,  20,  21,  22. 

5.  Neither  will  it  out  of  my  mind,  but  that  that  man  that  takes  up 
Religion  for  the  world,  will  throw  away  Religion  for  the  world;  for 
so  surely  3iS  Judas  designed  the  world  in  becoming  religious,  so  surely 
did  he  also  sell  Religion,  and  his  Master  for  the  same.  To  answer 
the  question  therefore  affirmatively,  as  I  perceive  you  have  done,  and 
to  accept  of  as  authentick  such  answer,  is  both  Heathenish,  Hypocriti- 
cal and  Devilish,  and  your  reward  will  be  according  to  your  works. 
Then  they  stood  staring  one  upon  another,  but  had  not  wherewith  to 
answer  Christian.  Hopeful  also  approved  of  the  soundness  of  Chris- 
tian 's  answer,  so  there  was  a  great  silence  among  them.  Mr.  By- 
ends  and  his  company  also  staggered  and  kept  behind,  that  Christian 
and  Hopeful  might  -outgo  them.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow.  If 
these  men  cannot  stand  before  the  sentence  of  men,  what  will  they  do 
with  the  sentence  of  God  ?  &  if  they  are  mute  when  dealt  with  by  ves- 
sels of  clay,  what  will  they  do  when  they  shall  be  rebuked  by  the  flames 
of  a  devouring  fire  ? 

Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  out-went  them,  and  went  till  they 
came  at  a  delicate  Plain,  called  Ease,  where  they  went  with  much  con- 
tent ;  but  that  plain  was  but  narroiv,  so  they  were  quickly  got  over  it. 
Now  at  the  further  side  of  that  plain,  was  a  little  Hill  called  Lucre,  and 
in  that  Hill  a  Silver-cMine,  which  some  of  them  that  had  formerly 
gone  that  way,  because  of  the  rarity  of  it,  had  turned  aside  to  see ;  but 
going  too  near  the  brink  of  the  pit,  the  ground  being  deceitful  under 
them,  broke,  and  they  were  slain ;  some  also  had  been  maimed  there, 
and  could  not  to  their  dying  day  be  their  own  men  again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  a  little  off  the  road,  over  against  the 


A  little  off  the  road,  over  against  the  Silver-Mine,  stood  Demas. 

Silver-cMine,  stood  Demas  (Gentleman-\ikc,)  to  call  to  Passengers  to 
come  and  see :  who  said  to  Christian  and  his  Fellow ;  Ho,  turn  aside 
hither,  and  I  will  shew  you  a  thing. 

Chr.    What  thing  so  deserving,  as  to  turn  us  out  of  the  ivay  ? 

De.  Here  is  a  Silver-o^me,  and  some  digging  in  it  for  Treasure ; 
if  you  will  come,  with  a  little  pains,  you  may  richly  provide  for 
yourselves. 

Hope.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Let  us  go  see. 

Chr.  Not  I,  said  Christian  ;  I  have  heard  of  this  place  before  now, 
and  how  many  have  there  been  slain ;  and  besides,  that  Treasure  is  a 
snare  to  those  that  seek  it,  for  it  hindreth  them  in  their  Pilgrimage. 
Then  Christian  called  to  Demas,  saying,  Is  not  the  place  dangerous  ? 
hath  it  not  hindred  many  in  their  Pilgrimage  ? 

De.  Not  very  dangerous,  except  to  those  that  are  careless:  but 
withal,  he  Blushed  as  he  spake. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  Let  us  not  stir  a  step,  but 
still  keep  on  our  way. 

119 


^^ 


ift 


b 


Hope.  /  will  ivarrant  you,  ivhen  By-ends  comes  up,  if  he  hath  the 
same  inl^itation  as  Ji^e,  he  ivill  turn  in  thither  to  see. 

Chr.  No  doubt  thereof,  for  his  principles  lead  him  that  way,  and  a 
hundred  to  one  but  he  dies  there. 

De.  Then  Demas  called  again,  saying.  But  will  you  not  come  over 
and  see? 

Chr.  Then  Christian  roundly  answered,  saying,  Demas,  Thou  art 
an  Enemy  to  the  right  ways  of  the  Lord  in  this  way,  and  hast  been 
already  condemned  for  thine  own  turning  aside,  by  one  of  his 
Majesty's  Judges ;  and  why  seekest  thou  to  bring  us  into  the  like  con- 
demnation ?  Besides,  if  we  at  all  turn  aside,  our  Lord  the  King  will 
certainly  hear  thereof;  and  will  there  put  us  to  shame,  where  we 
would  stand  with  boldness  before  him. 

Demas  cried  again.  That  he  also  was  one  of  their  fraternity ;  and 
that  if  they  would  tarry  a  little,  he  also  himself  would  walk  with 
them. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  What  is  thy  name  ?  is  it  not  the  same 
by  the  which  I  have  called  thee  ? 

De.  Yes,  my  name  is  Demas,  I  am  the  son  of  Abraham, 

Chr.  I  know  you,  Gehazi  was  your  Great-Grandfather,  and  Judas 
your  Father,  and  you  have  trod  their  steps.  It  is  but  a  devilish  prank 
that  thou  usest.  Thy  Father  was  hanged  for  a  Traitor,  and  thou  de- 
servest  no  better  reward.  Assure  thyself,  that  when  we  come  to  the 
King,  we  will  do  him  word  of  this  thy  behaviour.  Thus  they  went 
their  way. 

By  this  time  By-ends  and  his  companions  was  come  again  within 
sight,  and  they  at  the  first  beck  went  over  to  Demas,  Now  whether 
they  fell  into  the  Pit  by  looking  over  the  brink  thereof ;  or  whether 
they  went  down  to  dig,  or  whether  they  were  smothered  in  the  bot- 
tom, by  the  damps  that  commonly  arise,  of  these  things  I  am  not  cer- 
tain: But  this  I  observed,  that  they  were  never  seen  again  in  the 
way.    Then  sang  Christian, 

By-ends  and Silver-Dcmas  both  agree; 
One  calls,  the  other  runs,  that  he  may  be, 
A  sharer  in  his  Lucre :  so  these  two 
Take  up  in  this  World,  and  no  further  go, 

120 


\  ^- 


Now  I  saw,  that  just  on  the  other  side  of  this  Plain,  the  Pilgrims  came 
to  a  place  where  stood  an  old  cMonument,  hard  by  the  High-way-side, 
at  the  sight  of  which  they  were  both  concerned,  because  of  the  strange- 
ness of  the  form  thereof;  for  it  seemed  to  them  as  if  it  had  been  a 
Woman  transformed  into  the  shape  of  a  Pillar:  here  therefore  they 
stood  looking,  and  looking  upon  it,  but  could  not  for  a  time  tell  what 
they  should  make  thereof.  At  last  Hopeful  espied  written  above  upon 
the  head  thereof,  a  Writing  in  an  unusual  hand;  but  he  being  no 
Scholar,  called  to  Christian  (for  he  was  learned)  to  see  if  he  could  pick 
out  the  meaning:  so  he  came,  and  after  a  little  laying  of  Letters 
together,  he  found  the  same  to  be  this,  'Remember  Lot's  Wife.  So  he 
read  it  to  his  fellow ;  after  which,  they  both  concluded,  that  that  was 
the  Pillar  of  Salt  into  which  Lot's  Wife  was  turned  for  looking  back 
with  a  covetous  heart,  when  she  was  going  from  Sodom  for  safety, 
which  sudden  and  amazing  sight,  gave  them  occasion  of  this  dis- 
course. 

Chr.  Ah  my  brother,  this  is  a  seasonable  sight,  it  came  oppor- 
tunely to  us  after  the  invitatian  which  Demas  gave  us  to  come  over 
to  view  the  Hill  Lucre :  and  had  we  gone  over  as  he  desired  us,  and 
as  thou  wast  inclining  to  do  (my  Brother)  we  had,  for  ought  I  know, 
been  made  ourselves  like  this  Woman,  a  spectacle  for  those  that  shall 
come  after  to  behold. 

Hope.  I  am  sorry  that  I  was  so  foolish,  and  am  made  to  wonder 
that  I  am  not  now  as  Lot's  Wife;  for  wherein  was  the  difference 
'twixt  her  sin  and  mine.  She  only  looked  back,  and  I  had  a  desire  to 
go  sec.  Let  Grace  be  adored,  and  let  me  be  ashamed  that  ever  such  a 
thing  should  be  in  mine  heart. 

Chr.  Let  us  take  notice  of  what  we  see  here,  for  our  help  for  time 
to  come :  This  woman  escaped  one  Judgment ;  for  she  fell  not  by  the 
destruction  of  Sodom,  yet  she  was  destroyed  by  another ;  as  we  see, 
she  is  turned  into  a  Pillar  of  Salt. 

Hope.  True,  and  she  may  be  to  us  both  Caution  and  Example; 
Caution  that  we  should  shun  her  sin,  or  a  sign  of  what  judgment  will 
overtake  such  as  shall  not  be  prevented  by  this  caution.  So  Korah, 
Dathan,  and  Abiram,  with  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  men,  that  per- 
ished in  their  sin,  did  also  become  a  sign,  or  example  to  others  to  be- 
ware.   But  above  all,  I  muse  at  one  thing,  to  wit,  how  Demas  and  his 


( 


121 


16 


They  both  concluded  that  that  was  the  Pillar  of  Salt  into  which  Lot's  Wife  was  turned 
for  looking  back  with  a  covetous  heart. 


.9. 


^^€ 


wm 


fellows  can  stand  so  confidently  yonder  to  look  for  that  treasure,  which 
this  Woman,  but  for  looking  behind  her,  after  (for  we  read  not  that 
she  stept  one  foot  out  of  the  way)  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of  Salt; 
specially  since  the  Judgment  which  overtook  her,  did  make  her  an  ex- 
ample, within  sight  of  where  they  are :  for  they  cannot  chuse  but  see 
her,  did  they  but  lift  up  their  eyes. 

Chr.  It  is  a  thing  to  be  wondered  at,  and  it  argueth  that  their  heart 
is  grown  desperate  in  the  case ;  and  I  cannot  tell  who  to  compare  them 
to  so  fitly,  as  to  them  that  pick  Pockets  in  the  presence  of  the  Judge, 
or  that  will  cut  Purses  under  the  Gallows.  It  is  said  of  the  men  of 
Sodom,  that  they  'itfere  sinners  exceedingly,  because  they  were  sinners 
before  the  Lord;  that  is,  in  his  eyesight;  and  notwithstanding  the 
kindnesses  that  he  had  shewed  them,  for  the  land  of  Sodom,  was  now, 
like  the  Garden  of  Eden  heretofore.  This  therefore  provoked  him  the 
more  to  jealousy,  and  made  their  plague  as  hot  as  the  fire  of  the  Lord 
out  of  Heaven  could  make  it.  And  it  is  most  rationally  to  be  con- 
cluded, that  such,  even  such  as  these  are,  that  shall  sin  in  the  sight, 
yea,  and  that  too  in  despite  of  such  examples  that  are  set  continually 
before  them,  to  caution  them  to  the  contrary,  must  be  partakers  of 
severest  Judgments. 

Hope.  Doubtless  thou  hast  said  the  truth,  but  what  a  mercy  is  it, 
that  neither  thou,  but  especially  I,  am  not  made  myself  this  example : 
this  ministreth  occasion  to  us  to  thank  God,  to  fear  before  him,  and 
always  to  remember  Lot's  Wife. 

I  saw  then,  that  they  went  on  their  way  to  a  pleasant  River,  which 
David  the  King  called  the  River  of  God ;  but  John,  the  Ril>er  of  the 
ivater  of  life.  Now  their  way  lay  just  upon  the  bank  of  the  River : 
here  therefore  Christian  and  his  Companion  walked  with  great  delight. 
They  drank  also  of  the  water  of  the  River,  which  was  pleasant  and 
enlivening  to  their  weary  Spirits :  besides,  on  the  banks  of  this  River 
on  either  side  were  green  Trees,  that  bore  all  manner  of  Fruit;  and 
the  leaves  of  the  Trees  were  good  for  Medicine;  with  the  Fruit  of 
these  Trees  they  were  also  much  delighted ;  and  the  leaves  they  eat  to 
prevent  Surfeits,  and  other  Diseases  that  are  incident  to  those  that  heat 
their  blood  by  Travels.  On  either  side  of  the  River  was  also  a 
Meadow,  curiously  beautified  with  Lilies;  and  it  was  green  all  the 
year  long.     In  this  Meadow  they  lay  down  and  slept,  for  here  they 


might  lie  doivn  safely.  When  they  awoke,  they  gathered  again  of 
the  Fruit  of  the  Trees,  and  drank  again  of  the  Water  of  the  River, 
and  then  lay  down  again  to  sleep.  Thus  they  did  several  days  and 
nights.    Then  they  sang : 

Behold  ye  hcnu  these  Crystal  streams  do  glide 

(To  comfort  Pilgrims)  by  the  Highivay  side; 

The  Meadolifs  green,  besides  their  fragrant  smell. 

Yield  dainties  for  them :  And  he  that  can  tell 

What  pleasant  Fruit,  yea  Leaves,  these  Trees  do  yield, 

Will  soon  sell  all,  that  he  may  buy  this  Field. 

So  when  they  were  disposed  to  go  on  (for  they  were  not,  as  yet,  at 
their  Journey's  end)  they  eat  and  drank,  and  departed. 

,  Now  I  beheld  in  my  Dream,  that  they  had  not  journied  far,  but  the 
River  and  the  way,  for  a  time,  parted.  At  which  they  were  not  a 
little  sorry,  yet  they  durst  not  go  out  of  the  way.  Now  the  way  from 
the  River  was  rough,  and  their  feet  tender  by  reason  of  their  Travels : 
So  the  soul  of  the  Pilgrims  iVas  much  discouraged,  because  of  the  luay. 
Wherefore  still  as  they  went  on,  they  wished  for  better  way.  Now  a 
little  before  them,  there  was  on  the  left  hand  of  the  Road,  a  cMeadoiv, 
and  a  Stile  to  go  over  into  it,  and  that  Meadow  is  called  By-Path- 
Meadcnv.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  If  this  Meadow  lieth 
along  by  our  way  side,  lets  go  over  into  it.  Then  he  went  to  the 
Stile  to  see,  and  behold  a  Path  lay  along  by  the  way  on  the  other  side 
of  the  fence.  'Tis  according  to  my  wish  said  Christian,  here  is  the 
easiest  going ;  come  good  Hopeful,  and  let  us  go  over. 

Hope.  But  hoiv  if  this  Path  should  lead  us  out  of  the  ivay  ? 

Chr.  That's  not  like,  said  the  other ;  look,  doth  it  not  go  along  by 
the  way  side  ?  So  Hopeful,  being  perswaded  by  his  fellow,  went  af- 
ter him  over  the  Stile.  When  they  were  gone  over,  and  were  got 
into  the  Path,  they  found  it  very  easy  for  their  feet ;  and  withal,  they 
looking  before  them,  espied  a  Man  walking  as  they  did,  (and  his  name 
was  Vain  confidence)  so  they  called  after  him,  and  asked  him  whither 
that  way  led  ?  he  said.  To  the  Coelestial  Gate.  Look,  said  Christian, 
did  not  I  tell  you  so  ?  by  this  you  may  see  we  are  right.  So  they  fol- 
lowed, and  he  went  before  them.     But  behold  the  night  came  on,  and 

124 


They  went  on  their  way  to  a  pleasant  River,  which  David  the  King  called  the  River  of  God ; 

but  John,  the  River  of  the  water  of  life. 


it  grew  very  dark,  so  that  they  that  were  behind  lost  the  sight  of  him 
that  went  before. 

He  therefore  that  went  before  (  Vain  confidence  by  name)  not  see- 
ing the  way  before  him,  fell  into  a  deep  Pit,  which  was  on  purpose 
there  made  by  the  Prince  of  those  grounds  to  catch  >am  glorious  fools 
withal  and  was  dashed  to  pieces  with  his  fall. 

Now  Christian  and  his  fellow  heard  him  fall.  So  they  called,  to 
know  the  matter,  but  there  was  none  to  answer,  only  the3>  heard 
a  groaning.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Where  are  we  now?  Then 
was  his  fellow  silent,  as  mistrusting  that  he  had  led  him  out  of 
the  way.  And  now  it  began  to  rain,  and  thunder,  and  lighten 
in  a  very  dreadful  manner,  and  the  water  rose  amain. 

Then  Hopeful  groaned  in 
himself,  saying,  Oh  that  I  had 
kept  on  my  'way  I 

Chr.  Who  could  have 
thought  that  this  path  should 
have  led  us  out  of  the  way  ? 
Hope.  /  vjas  afraid  on't 
at  very  first,  and  therefore 
gave  you  that  gentle  cau- 
tion. I  "would  have  spoke 
plainer,  hut  that  you  are  older 
than  I. 

Chr.  Good  Brother  be  not 
offended,  I  am  sorry  I  have 
brought  thee  out  of  the  way, 
and  that  I  have  put  thee  into 
such  eminent  danger;  pray 
my  Brother  forgive  me,  I 
did  not  do  it  of  an  evil  in- 
tent. 

Hope.    Be  comforted  my 

Brother  for  I  forgive  thee ; 

and  believe  too,   that    this 

shall  be  for  our  good. 

Chr.  I  am  glad  I  have  with 


And  his  name  was  Vain  confidence. 


126 


m 


me  a  merciful  Brother.  But  we  must  not  stand  thus;  let's  try  to 
go  back  again. 

Hope.   Bat  good  Brother  let  me  go  before. 

Chr.  No,  if  you  please,  let  me  go  first ;  that  if  there  be  any  dan- 
ger, I  may  be  first  therein,  because  by  my  means  we  are  both  gone 
out  of  the  way. 

Hope.  No,  said  Hopeful,  you  shall  not  go  first,  for  your  mind  being 
troubled,  may  lead  you  out  of  the  Ji>ay  again.  Then  for  their  encour- 
agement, they  heard  the  voice  of  one  saying.  Let  thine  heart  he 
tovjards  the  High-ivay,  even  the  ivay  that  thou  wentest,  turn  again. 
But  by  this  time  the  Waters  were  greatly  risen,  by  reaspn  of  which, 
the  way  of  going  back  was  very  dangerous.  (Then  I  thought  that  it 
is  easier  going  out  of  the  way  when  we  are  in,  than  going  in  when  we 
are  out.)  Yet  they  adventured  to  go  back ;  but  it  was  so  dark,  and 
the  flood  was  so  high,  that  in  their  going  back,  they  had  like  to  have 
been  drowned  nine  or  ten  times. 

Neither  could  they,  with  all  the  skill  they  had,  get  again  to  the  Stile 
that  night.  Wherefore,  at  last,  lighting  under  a  little  shelter,  they  sat 
down  there  till  the  day  brake ;  but  being  weary,  they  fell  asleep.  Now 
there  was  not  far  from  the  place  where  they  lay,  a  Castle,  called 
Doubting-Castle,  the  owner  whereof  was  Giant  Despair,  and  it  was 
in  his  grounds  they  now  were  sleeping;  wherefore  he  getting  up 
in  the  morning  early,  and  walking  up  and  down  in  his  Fields,  caught 
Christian  and  Hopeful  asleep  in  his  grounds.  Then  with  a  grim  and 
surly  voice  he  bid  them  awake,  and  asked  them  whence  they  were  ? 
and  what  they  did  in  his  grounds?  They  told  him,  they  were 
Pilgrims,  and  that  they  had  lost  their  way.  Then  said  the  Giant,  You 
have  this  night  trespassed  on  me,  by  trampling  in,  and  lying  on  my 
grounds,  and  therefore  you  must  go  along  with  me.  So  they  were 
forced  to  go,  because  he  was  stronger  than  they.  They  also  had  but 
little  to  say,  for  they  knew  themselves  in  a  fault.  The  Giant  therefore 
drove  them  before  him,  and  put  them  into  his  Castle,  into  a  very  dark 
Dungeon,  nasty  and  stinking  to  the  spirit  of  these  two  men.  Here  then 
they  lay,  from  Wednesday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  without  one  bit 
of  bread,  or  drop  of  drink,  or  any  light,  or  any  to  ask  how  they  did. 
They  were  therefore  here  in  evil  case,  and  were  far  from  friends  and 
acquaintance.     Now  in  this  place.  Christian  had  double  sorrow,  be- 

127 


cause  'twas  through  his  unadvised  haste  that  they  were  brought  into 
this  distress. 

Now  Giant  Despair  had  a  Wife,  and  her  name  was  Diffidence. 
So  when  he  was  gone  to  bed,  he  told  his  Wife  what  he  had  done, 
to  wit,  that  he  had  taken  a  couple  of  Prisoners,  and  cast  them 
into  his  Dungeon,  for  trespassing  on  his  grounds.  Then  he  asked 
her  also  what  he  had  best  to  do  further  to  them.  So  she  asked 
him  what  they  were,  whence  they  came,  and  whither  they  were 
bound;  and  he  told  her:  then  she  counselled  him,  that  when  he 
arose  in  the  morning,  he  should  beat  them,  without  any  mercy. 
So  when  he  arose,  he  getteth  him  a  grievous  Crab-tree  Cudgel, 
and  goes  down  into  the  Dungeon  to  them ;  and  there,  first  falls  to 
rateing  of  them  as  if  they  were  dogs,  although  they  gave  him 
never  a  word  of  distaste;  then  he  falls  upon  them,  and  beats  them 
fearfully,  in  such  sort,  that  they  were  not  able  to  help  themselves, 
or  to  turn  them  upon  the  floor.  This  done,  he  withdraws  and 
leaves  them,  there  to  condole  their  misery,  and  to  mourn  under 
their  distress.  So  all  that  day  they  spent  the  time  in  nothing  but 
sighs  and  bitter  lamentations.  The  next  night  she  talking  with 
her  Husband  about  them  further,  and  understanding  that  they  were 
yet  alive,  did  advise  him  to  counsel  them,  to  make  away  themselves. 
So  when  morning  was  come,  he  goes  to  them  in  a  surly  manner,  as 
before,  and  perceiving  them  to  be  very  sore  with  the  stripes  that  he 
had  given  them  the  day  before,  he  told  them,  that  since  they  were 
never  like  to  come  out  of  that  place,  their  only  way  would  be,  forth- 
with to  make  an  end  of  themselves,  either  with  Knife,  Halter,  or 
Poison :  For  why,  said  he,  should  you  chuse  life,  seeing  it  is  attended 
with  so  much  bitterness.  But  they  desired  him  to  let  them  go ;  with 
that  he  looked  ugly  upon  them,  and  rushing  to  them,  had  doubtless 
made  an  end  of  them  himself,  but  that  he  fell  into  one  of  his  fits ;  (for 
he  sometimes  in  sun-shine  weather  fell  into  fits)  and  lost  (for  a  time) 
the  use  of  his  hand :  wherefore  he  withdrew,  and  left  them,  (as  before) 
to  consider  what  to  do.  Then  did  the  Prisoners  consult  between 
themselves,  whether  'twas  best  to  take  his  counsel  or  no :  and  thus 
they  began  to  discourse. 

Chr.  Brother,  said  Christian,  what  shall  we  do  ?  the  life  that  we 
now  live  is  miserable ;  for  my  part  I  know  not  whether  is  best,  to  live 


,o  o©' 


i®. 


^® 


»0 


128 


o  ^ 
•o 


17 


Giant  Despair. 


IP 


V9i 


s^ 


'-Mm 

G  ( 


i:ii/^ 
^"^g 


thus,  or  to  die  out  of  hand  ?  My  soul  chooseth  strangling  rather  than 
life ;  and  the  Grave  is  more  easy  for  mc  than  this  Dungeon.  Shall 
we  be  ruled  by  the  Giant  ? 

Hope.  Indeed  our  present  condition  is  dreadful,  and  death  ivould 
be  far  more  ^welcome  to  me  than  thus  for  ever  to  abide.  But  yet 
let  us  consider,  the  Lord  of  the  Country  to  ivhich  ive  are  going, 
hath  said.  Thou  shall  do  no  murther,  no  not  to  another  man's 
person;  much  more  then  are  l^e  forbidden  to  take  his  counsel  to 
kill  oursetbes.  Besides,  he  that  kills  another,  cannot  but  commit 
murder  upon  his  body;  but  for  one  to  kill  himself,  is  to  kill  body 

and  soul  at  once.  And 
moreover,  my  Brother, 
thou  talkest  of  ease  in 
the  Grave;  but  hast  thou 
forgotten  the  Hell, 
ivhithtr  for  certain  the 
murderers  go  ?  for  no 
murderer  hath  eternal 
life,  etc.  And,  let  us 
consider  again,  that  all 
the  Laiv  is  not  in  the 
hand  of  Giant  Despair. 
Others,  so  far  as  I  can 
understand,  have  been 
taken  by  him,  as  'well 
as  ive;  and  yet  have 
escaped  out  of  his  hand. 
Who  knolls  but  that 
God  that  made  the  ivorld 
may  cause  that  Giant 
Despair  may  die;  or 
that,  at  some  time  or 
other  he  may  forget  to 
lock  us  in;  or,  but  he  may 
in  short  time  have  an- 

He  caught  Christian  and  Hopeful  asleep  in  his  grounds.  other  of  his   fits   beforC 


e::^! 


)^< 


■/'} 


y 


/o\ 


'C 


ro 


c-Z 


H 

R 

^M^^^^ 

w^ 

Br^lK^dRVS 

M 

11 ''  sl^HuSmflM 

^H 

PfflK^ 

W^M 

hHH 

I 

m 

H 

1 

■ 

m 

■  IIIIIIIIHlUil 

nula^mmt^atK\ 

Towards  evening  the  Giant  goes  down  into  the  Dungeon 
again,  to  see  if  his  Prisoners  had  taken  his  counsel. 


as,  and  may  lose  the  use 
of  his  limbs  ;  and  if  ever 
that  should  come  to  pass 
again,  for  my  part,  I  am 
resolved  to  pluck  up  the 
heart  of  a  man,  and  to  try 
my  utmost  to  get  from 
under  his  hand.  I  ivas  a 
fool  that  I  did  not  try  to 
do  it  before :  but  however, 
my  Brother,  let's  be  pa- 
tient, and  endure  a  ivhile  ; 
the  time  may  come  that  may 
give  us  a  happy  release: 
but  let  us  not  be  our  oivn 
murderers.  With  these 
words  Hopeful  at  present 
did  moderate  the  mind  of  his  Brother;  so  they  continued  together 
(in  the  dark)  that  day,  in  their  sad  and  doleful  condition. 

Well,  towards  evening  the  Giant  goes  down  into  the  Dungeon  again, 
to  see  if  his  Prisoners  had  taken  his  counsel;  but  when  he  came  there, 
he  found  them  alive,  and  truly,  alive  was  all :  for  now,  what  for  want 
of  Bread  and  Water,  and  by  reason  of  the  Wounds  they  received  when 
he  beat  them,  they  could  do  little  but  breathe.  But,  I  say,  he  found 
them  alive ;  at  which  he  fell  into  a  grievous  rage,  and  told  them,  that 
seeing  they  had  disobeyed  his  counsel,  it  should  be  worse  with  them 
than  if  they  had  never  been  born. 

At  this  they  trembled  greatly,  and  I  think  that  Christian  fell  into  a 
Swound;  but  coming  a  little  to  himself  again,  they  renewed  their  dis- 
course about  the  Giant's  counsel ;  and  whether  yet  they  had  best  to 
take  it  or  no.  Now  Christian  again  seemed  to  be  for  doing  it,  but 
Hopeful  made  his  second  reply  as  followeth. 

Hope.  cMy  Brother,  said  he,  remembrest  thou  not  hoiv  l^aliant  thou 
hast  been  heretofore.  ApoUyon  could  not  crush  thee,  nor  could  all 
that  thou  didst  hear,  or  see,  or  feel  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadoiv  of 
Death.     What  hardship,  terror,  and  amazement  hast  thou  already  gone 

131 


<?^ 


^IfR*^ 


^C^ 


through,  and  art  thou  noiv  nothing  but  fear  ?  Thou  seest  that  I  am 
in  the  Dungeon  ivtth  thee,  a  far  iveaker  man  by  nature  than  thou  art : 
also  this  Giant  has  ivounded  me  as  ivelt  as  thee,  and  hath  also  cut  off 
the  Bread  and  Water  from  my  mouth;  and  ivith  thee  I  mourn  'without 
the  light :  but  let's  exercise  a  little  more  patience.  I^emember  hcnv 
thou  playedst  the  man  at  Vanity  Fair,  and  ivast  neither  afraid  of  the 
Chain  nor  Cage;  nor  yet  of  bloody  Death :  ivherefore  let  us  (at  least 
to  avoid  the  shame,  that  becomes  not  a  Christian  to  be  found  in)  bear 
up  ivith  patience  as  ivell  as  yt>e  can. 

Now  night  being  come  again,  and  the  Giant  and  his  Wife  being  in 
bed,  she  asked  him  concerning  the  Prisoners,  and  if  they  had  taken 
his  counsel :  To  which  he  replied.  They  are  sturdy  Rogues,  they 
chuse  rather  to  bear  all  hardship  than  to  make  away  themselves. 
Then  said  she.  Take  them  into  the  Castle-yard  to  morrow,  and  show 
them  the  Bones  and  Skulls  of  those  that  thou  hast  already  dispatch'd ; 
and  make  them  believe,  e're  a  week  comes  to  an  end,  thou  also  wilt 
tear  them  in  pieces,  as  thou  hast  done  their  fellows  before  them. 

So  when  the  morning  was  come,  the  Giant  goes  to  them  again,  and 
takes  them  into  the  Castle-yard,  and  shews  them  as  his  Wife  had 
bidden  him.  These,  said  he,  were  Pilgrims  as  you  are,  once,  and 
they  trespassed  in  my  grounds  as  you  have  done ;  and  when  I  thought 
fit,  I  tore  them  in  pieces ;  and  so  within  ten  days  I  will  do  you.  Go 
get  you  down  to  your  Den  again ;  and  with  that  he  beat  them  all  the 
way  thither.  They  lay  therefore  all  day  on  Saturday  in  a  lamentable 
case,  as  before.  Now  when  night  was  come,  and  when  Mrs.  Diffi- 
dence and  her  Husband,  the  Giant,  were  got  to  bed,  they  began  to 
renew  their  discourse  of  their  Prisoners :  and  withal,  the  old  Giant 
wondered,  that  he  could  neither  by  his  blows,  nor  counsel,  bring  them 
to  an  end.  And  with  that  his  Wife  replied,  I  fear,  said  she,  that  they 
live  in  hope  that  some  will  come  to  relieve  them,  or  that  they  have 
pick-locks  about  them ;  by  the  means  of  which  they  hope  to  escape. 
And,  sayest  thou  so,  my  dear  ?  said  the  Giant,  I  will  therefore  search 
them  in  the  morning. 

Well,  on  Saturday  about  midnight  they  began  to  pray,  and  continued 
in  Prayer  till  almost  break  of  day. 

Now  a  little  before  it  was  day,  good  Christian,  as  one  half  amazed, 
brake  out  in  this  passionate  Speech,  What  a  fool,  quoth  he,  am  I  thus 


132 


That  gate,  as  it  opened,  made  such  a  creaking-,  that  it  waked  Giant  Despair,  who  hastily  rising 

to  pursue  his  Prisoners,  felt  his  Limbs  to  fail. 


to  lie  in  a.  stinking  Dungeon,  ivhen  I  may  as  ivett  <walk  at  liberty  I  I 
hat>e  a  Key  in  my  bosom,  called  Promise,  that  tbill,  I  am  persuaded, 
open  any  Lock  in  Doubting  Castle.  Then  said  Hopeful,  That's  good 
news ;  good  Brother  pluck  it  out  of  thy  bosom  and  try. 

Then  Christian  pulled  it  out  of  his  bosom,  and  began  to  try  at  the 
Dungeon  door,  whose  bolt  (as  he  turned  the  Key)  gave  back,  and  the 
door  flew  open  with  ease,  and  Christian  and  Hopeful  both  came  out. 
Then  he  went  to  the  outward  door  that  leads  into  the  Castle  yard, 
and  with  his  Key  opened  the  door  also.  After  he  went  to  the  Iron 
Gate,  for  that  must  be  opened  too,  but  that  Lock  went  damnable  hard, 
yet  the  Key  did  open  it ;  then  they  thrust  open  the  Gate  to  make  their 
escape  with  speed,  but  that  Gate,  as  it  opened,  made  such  a  creaking, 
that  it  waked  Giant  Despair,  who  hastily  rising  to  pursue  his  Prison- 
ers, felt  his  Limbs  to  fail,  for  his  fits  took  him  again,  so  that  he  could 
by  no  means  go  after  them.  Then  they  went  on,  and  came  to  the 
King's  high-way  again,  and  so  were  safe,  because  they  were  out  of  his 
Jurisdiction. 

Now  when  they  were  gone  over  the  Stile,  they  began  to  contrive 
with  themselves  what  they  should  do  at  that  Stile,  to  prevent  those 
that  should  come  after,  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  Giant  Despair. 
So  they  consented  to  erect  there  a  Pillar,  and  to  engrave  upon  the  side 
thereof  Over  this  Stile  is  the  Way  to  Doubting-Castle,  'which  is  kept 
by  Giant  Despair,  ivho  despiseth  the  King  of  the  Coelestial  Country, 
and  seeks  to  destroy  his  holy  Pilgrims.  Many  therefore  that  followed 
after,  read  what  was  written,  and  escaped  the  danger.  This  done,  they 
sang  as  follows : 

Out  of  the  ivay  ive  ivent,  and  then  ive  found 

What  'tivas  to  tread  upon  forbidden  ground: 

And  let  them  that  come  after  have  a  care. 

Lest  heedlessness  makes  them,  as  ive,  to  fare  : 

Lest  they,  for  trespassing,  his  prisoners  are. 

Whose  Castle's  Doubting,  and  ivhose  name's  Despair. 

They  went  then,  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable  Mountains,  which 
Mountains  belong  to  the  Lord  of  that  Hill,  of  which  we  have  spoken 
before ;  so  they  went  up  to  the  Mountains,  to  behold  the  Gardens  and 
Orchards,  the  Vineyards,  and  Fountains  of  water;  where  also  they 
drank,  and  washed  themselves,  and  did  freely  eat  of  the  Vineyards. 

134 


Now  there  was  on  the  tops  of  these  Mountains  Shepherds  feeding  their 
flocks,  and  they  stood  by  the  high-way  side.  The  Pilgrims  therefore 
went  to  them,  and  leaning  upon  their  staves,  (as  is  common  with 
weary  Pilgrims,  when  they  stand  to  talk  with  any  by  the  way,)  they 
asked.  Whose  delectable  cMountains  are  these  ?  andivhose  be  the  sheep 
that  feed  upon  them  ? 

Shep.  These  Mountains  are  Immanuel's  Land,  and  they  are 
within  sight  of  his  City,  and  the  sheep  also  are  his,  and  he  laid  down 
his  life  for  them. 

Chr.  Is  this  the  ivay  to  the  Coelestial  City  ? 

Shep.  You  are  just  in  your  way. 

Chr.  How  far  is  it  thither  ? 

Shep.   Too  far  for  any  but  those  that  shall  get  thither  indeed. 

Chr.  Is  the  ivay  safe,  or  dangerous  ? 

Shep.  Safe  for  those  for  whom  it  is  to  be  safe,  but  transgressors  shall 
fall  therein. 

Chr.  Is  there  in  this  place  any  relief  for  Pilgrims  that  are  'weary 
and  faint  in  the  ivay  ? 

Shep.  The  Lord  of  these  Mountains  hath  given  us  a  charge.  Not  to 
be  forgetful  to  enter- 
tain strangers:  There- 
fore the  good  of  the 
place  is  even  before 
you. 

I  saw  also  in  my 
Dream,  that  when  the 
Shepherds  perceived 
that  they  were  way- 
faring men,  they  also 
put  questions  to  them, 
(to  which  they  made 
answer  as  in  other 
places,)  as.  Whence 
came  you  ?  and.  How 
got  you  into  the  way  ? 
and,  By  what  means 

'  ''^  Now  there  was  on  the  tops  of  these  Mountains  Shepherds  feeding 

therein  ?      For  but  few  their  flocks,  and  they  stood  by  the  high-way  side. 

135 


C?7 


drnm 


c.    ■ 


of  them  that  begin  to 
come  hither,  do  shew 
their  face  on  these 
Mountains.  But 

when  the  Shepherds 
heard  their  answers, 
being  pleased  there- 
with, they  looked 
very  lovingly  upon 
them;  and  said.  Wel- 
come to  the  delectable 
cMountains. 

The  Shepherds,  I 
say,  whose  names 
were  Knoivledge,  Ex- 
perience, Watchful, 
and  Sincere,  took 
them  by  the  hand, 
and  had  them  to  their 
Tents,  and  made  them 
partake  of  that  which 
was  ready  at  present. 

The  top  of  an  Hill  called  Error.  They  Said  moreover, 

We  would  that  you  should  stay  here  a  while,  to  be  acquainted  with  us, 
and  yet  more  to  solace  yourselves  with  the  good  of  these  delectable 
Mountains.  They  told  them.  That  they  were  content  to  stay ;  and  so 
they  went  to  their  rest  that  night,  because  it  was  very  late. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream  that  in  the  morning  the  Shepherds  called 
up  Christian  and  Hopeful  to  walk  with  them  upon  the  Mountains.  So 
they  went  forth  with  them,  and  walked  a  while,  having  a  pleasant 
prospect  on  every  side.  Then  said  the  Shepherds  one  to  another. 
Shall  we  shew  these  Pilgrims  some  wonders?  So  when  they  had 
concluded  to  do  it,  they  had  them  first  to  the  top  of  an  Hill  called  Error, 
which  was  very  steep  on  the  furthest  side,  and  bid  them  look  down  to 
the  bottom.  So  Christian  and  Hopeful  lookt  down,  and  saw  at  the 
bottom  several  men  dashed  all  to  pieces  by  a  fall  that  they  had  from 

136 


the  top.  Then  said  Christian,  What  meaneth  this  ?  The  Shepherds 
answered;  Have  you  not  heard  of  them  that  were  made  to  err,  by- 
hearkening  to  Hytneneus  and  Philetus,  as  concerning  the  Faith  of  the 
Resurrection  of  the  Body?  They  answered,  Yes.  Then  said  the 
Shepherds,  Those  that  you  see  lie  dashed  in  pieces  at  the  bottom  of 
this  Mountain,  are  they:  and  they  have  continued  to  this  day  un- 
buried  (as  you  see)  for  an  example  to  others  to  take  heed  how  they 
clamber  too  high,  or  how  they  come  too  near  the  brink  of  this 
Mountain. 

Then  I  saw  that  they  had  them  to  the  top  of  another  Mountain, 
and  the  name  of  that  is  Caution  ;  and  bid  them  look  afar  off.  Which 
when  they  did,  they  perceived  as  they  thought,  several  men  walking 
up  and  down  among  the  Tombs  that  were  there.  And  they  perceived 
that  the  men  were  blind,  because  they  stumbled  sometimes  upon  the 
Tombs,  and  because  they  could  not  get  out  from  among  them.  Then 
said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

The  Shepherds  then  answered.  Did  you  not  see  a  little  below  these 
Mountains  a  Stile  that  led  into  a  Meadow  on  the  left  hand  of  this 
way  ?  They  answered,  Yes.  Then  said  the  Shepherds,  From  that 
Stile  there  goes  a  path  that  leads  directly  to  Doubting- Castle,  which  is 
kept  by  Giant  Despair;  and  these  men  (pointing  to  them  among  the 
Tombs)  came  once  on  Pilgrimage,  as  you  do  now,  even  till  they  came 
to  that  same  Stile.  And  because  the  right  way  was  rough  in  that 
place,  they  chose  to  go  out  of  it  into  that  Meadow,  and  there  were 
taken  by  Giant  Despair,  and  cast  into  Doubting-Castle ;  where,  after 
they  had  a  while  been  kept  in  the  Dungeon,  he  at  last  did  put  out  their 
eyes,  and  led  them  among  those  Tombs,  where  he  has  left  them  to 
wander  to  this  very  day ;  that  the  saying  of  the  wise  Man  might  be 
fulfilled.  He  that  wandereth  out  of  the  way  of  understanding  shall  re- 
main in  the  Congregation  of  the  dead.  Then  Christian  and  Hopeful 
looked  one  upon  another,  with  tears  gushing  out ;  but  yet  said  nothing 
to  the  Shepherds. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  the  Shepherds  had  them  to  an- 
other place,  in  a  bottom,  where  was  a  door  in  the  side  of  an  Hill; 
and  they  opened  the  door,  and  bid  them  look  in.  They  looked  in 
therefore,  and  saw  that  within  it  was  very  dark,  and  smoaky;  they 


137 


'\F- 


!    !]\ 


U 
■4-» 

fi 

yS3 

-4-» 

c/) 
J3 

6 
o 

H 

c 
I 

(4 

C 

o 
•o 

•o 

a 
n 

a 

3 
bs 

C 

C3 
ft 

c 

a 


(J 


a 


o»,H® 


•©o 


00 


,®3 


®^ 


also  thought  that  they  heard  there  a  rumbling  noise  as  of  fire,  and 
a  cry  of  some  tormented,  and  that  they  smelt  the  scent  of  Brimstone. 
Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ?  The  Shepherds  told  them, 
saying,  this  is  a  By-way  to  Hell,  a  way  that  Hypocrites  go  in  at; 
namely,  such  as  sell  their  Birth-right,  with  Esau :  such  as  sell  their 
Master,  with.  Judas:  such  as  blaspheme  the  Gospel,  with  Alexander: 
and  that  lie  and  dissemble,  with  Ananias  and  Sapphira  his  wife. 

Hope.  Then  said  Hopeful  to  the  Shepherds,  /  perceive  that  these 
had  on  them,  dpen  every  one,  a  she'iv  of  Pilgrimage  as  ive  have  noiu; 
had  they  not  ? 

Shep.  Yes,  and  held  it  a  long  time  too. 

Hope.  Hoiv  far  might  they  go  on  Pilgrimage  in  their  day,  since  they 
notivithstanding  zuere  thus  miserably  cast  au>ay  ? 

Shep.   Some  further,  and  some  not  so  far  as  these  Mountains. 

Then  said  the  Pilgrims  one  to  another.  We  had  need  cry  to  the 
Strong  for  strength. 

Shep.  Ay,  and  you  will  have  need  to  use  it  when  you  have  it,  too. 

By  this  time  the  Pilgrims  had  a  desire  to  go  forwards,  and  the  Shep- 
herds a  desire  they  should;  so  they  walked  together  towards  the 
end  of  the  Mountains.  Then  said  the  Shepherds  one  to  another.  Let 
us  here  shew  to  the  Pilgrims  the  Gates  of  the  Ccelestial  City,  if  they 
have  skill  to  look  through  our  Perspective  Glass.  The  Pilgrims 
then  lovingly  accepted  the  motion :  so  they  had  them  to  the  top  of  an 
high  Hill,  called  Clear,  and  gave  them  their  Glass  to  look.  Then  they 
essayed  to  look,  but  the  remembrance  of  that  last  thing  that  the  Shep- 
herds had  shewed  them  made  their  hand  shake,  by  means  of  which 
impediment  they  could  not  look  steadily  through  the  Glass ;  yet  they 
thought  they  saw  something  like  the  Gate,  and  also  some  of  the  Glory 
of  the  place. 

Thus  by  the  Shepherds,  Secrets  are  reveal' d. 
Which  from  all  other  men  are  kept  conceal' d : 
Come  to  the  Shepherds  then,  if  you  'would  see 
Things  deep,  things  hid,  and  that  mysterious  be. 


L  0. 


I® 


When  they  were  about  to  depart,  one  of  the  Shepherds  gave  them  a 
note  of  the  ivay.  Another  of  them  bid  them  beware  of  the  flatterer. 
The  third,  bid  them  take  heed  that  they  sleep  not  upon  the  Inchanted 


130 


Ground,  and  the  fourth,  bid  them  God  speed.  So  I  awoke  from  my 
Dream. 

And  I  slept,  and  dreamed  again,  and  saw  the  same  two  Pilgrims 
going  down  the  Mountains  along  the  High-way  towards  the  City. 
Now  a  little  below  these  Mountains,  on  the  left  hand,  lieth  the  Coun- 
try of  Conceit,  from  which  Country  there  comes  into  the  way  in  which 
the  Pilgrims  walked,  a  little  crooked  Lane.  Here  therefore  they  met 
with  a  very  brisk  Lad,  that  came  out  of  that  Country ;  and  his  name 
was  Ignorance.  So  Christian  asked  him.  From  luhat  parts  he  came  ? 
and  ivhither  he  ivas  going  ? 

Ign,  Sir,  I  was  born  in  the  Country  that  lieth  off  there,  a  little  on 
the  left  hand ;  and  I  am  going  to  the  Coelestial  City. 

Chr.  Bat  hoiv  do  you  think  to  get  in  at  the  Gate,  for  you  may  find 
some  difficulty  there  ? 

Ign.  As  other  good  People  do,  said  he. 

Chr.  But  yt>hat  have  you  to  she^u  at  that  Gate,  that  may  cause 
that  the  Gate  should  be  opened  to  you} 

Ign.   I  know  my  Lords  will,  and  I  have  been  a  good  liver,  I  pay 


140 


every  man  his  own ;  I  Pray,  Fast,  pay  Tithes,  and  give  Alms,  and  have 
left  my  Country  for  whither  I  am  going. 

Chr.  Bat  thou  earnest  not  in  at  the  Wicket-gate,  that  is  at  the  head 
of  this  ivay  ;  thou  earnest  in  hither  through  that  same  crooked  Lane  ; 
and  therefore  I  fear,  hoivever  thou  mayest  think  of  thyself  ivhen  the 
reckoning  day  shall  come,  thou  ivilt  ha1>e  laid  to  thy  charge  that  thou 
art  a  Thief  and  a  'T^bber,  instead  of  getting  admittance  into  the  City. 

Ign.  Gentlemen,  ye  be  utter  strangers  to  me,  I  know  you  not ;  be 
content  to  follow  the  Religion  of  your  Country,  and  I  will  follow  the 
Religion  of  mine.  I  hope  all  will  be  well.  And  as  for  the  Gate 
that  you  talk  of,  all  the  World  knows  that  that  is  a  great  way  off  of 
our  Country.  I  cannot  think  that  any  man  in  all  our  parts  doth  so 
much  as  know  the  way  to  it ;  nor  need  they  matter  whether  they  do 
or  no,  since  we  have,  as  you  see,  a  fine  pleasant  green  Lane,  that 
comes  down  from  our  Country  the  next  way  into  it. 

When  Christian  saw  that  the  man  was  wise  in  his  own  conceit,  he 
said  to  Hopeful  whisperingly,  There  is  more  hopes  of  a  fool  than 
of  him.  And  said  moreover  When  he  that  is  a  fool  ivalketh  by  the 
ivay,  his  ivisdom  faileth  him,  and  he  saith  to  every  one  that  he  is  a 
fool.  What,  shall  we  talk  further  with  him  ?  or  out-go  him  at  present  ? 
and  so  leave  him  to  think  of  what  he  hath  heard  already ;  and 
then  stop  again  for  him  afterwards,  and  see  if  by  degrees  we  can 
do  any  good  of  him?    Then  said  Hopeful : 


.•■  f 


• .  ■  •  > 


Let  Ignorance  a  little  ivhile  noiv  muse 
On  ivhat  is  said,  and  let  him  not  refuse 
Good  Counsel  to  imbrace,  lest  he  remain 
Still  Ignorant  ofTbhat's  the  chief  est  gain. 
God  saith,  Those  that  no  understanding  have 
{Although  he  made  them)  them  he  7t>ill  not  save. 


Hope.  He  further  added.  It  is  not  good,  I  think,  to  say  all  to  him  at 
once,  let  us  pass  him  by,  if  you  will,  and  talk  to  him  anon,  even  as  he 
is  able  to  bear  it. 

So  they  both  went  on,  and  Ignorance  he  came  after.  Now  when 
they  had  passed  him  a  little  way,  they  entered  into  a  very  dark  Lane, 
where  they  met  a  man  whom  seven  Devils  had  bound  with  seven 


141 


r 


strong  Cords,  and  were  carrying  of  him  back  to  the  door  that  they 
saw  in  the  side  of  the  Hill.  Now  good  Christian  began  to  tremble, 
and  so  did  Hopeful  his  Companion :  yet  as  the  Devils  led  away  the 
man,  Christian  looked  to  see  if  he  knew  him,  and  he  thought  it  might 
be  one  Turn-ati>ay  that  dwelt  in  the  Toti>n  of  Apostacy.  But  he  did 
not  perfectly  see  his  face,  for  he  did  hang  his  head  like  a  Thief  that  is 
found.  But  being  gone  past.  Hopeful  looked  after  him,  and  espied  on 
his  back  a  Paper  with  this  Inscription,  Wanton  Professor,  and  damna- 
ble Apostate.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  Fellow,  Now  I  call  to 
remembrance  that  which  was  told  me  of  a  thing  that  happened  to  a 
good  man  hereabout.  The  name  of  the  man  was  Little-Faith,  but 
a  good  man,  and  he  dwelt  in  the  Town  of  Sincere.  The  thing  was 
this ;  at  the  entering  in  of  this  passage  there  comes  down  from  Broad- 
ivay-gate  a  Lane  called  Dead-man' s-lane;  so  called,  because  of  the 
Murders  that  are  commonly  done  there.  And  this  Little-Faith  going 
on  Pilgrimage,  as  we  do  now,  chanced  to  sit  down  there  and  slept. 
Now  there  happened,  at  that  time,  to  come  down  that  Lane  from 
'Broad-ivay-gate  three  Sturdy  Rogues,  and  their  names  were  Faint- 
heart, Mistrust,  and  Guilt,  (three  brothers)  and  they  espying  Little- 
Faith  where  he  was,  came  galloping  up  with  speed.  Now  the  good 
man  was  Just  awaked  from  his  sleep,  and  was  getting  up  to  go  on  his 
Journey.  So  they  came  all  up  to  him,  and  with  threatening  Language 
bid  him  stand.  At  this.  Little-faith  lookt  as  white  as  a  Clout,  and 
had  neither  power  to  fight  nor  fly.  Then  said  Faint-heari,  Deliver 
thy  Purse;  but  he  making  no  haste  to  do  it,  (for  he  was  loth  to 
lose  his  Money,)  Mistrust  ran  up  to  him,  and  thrusting  his  hand 
into  his  Pocket,  pull'd  out  thence  a  bag  of  Silver.  Then  he  cried 
out.  Thieves,  thieves.  With  that,  Guilt  with  a  great  Club  that  was 
in  his  hand,  strook  Little-Faith  on  the  head,  and  with  that  blow 
fell'd  him  flat  to  the  ground,  where  he  lay  bleeding  as  one  that 
would  bleed  to  death.  All  this  while  the  Thieves  stood  by :  but  at 
last,  they  hearing  that  some  were  upon  the  Road,  and  fearing  lest 
it  should  be  one  Great-grace  that  dwells  in  the  City  of  Good-confidence, 
they  betook  themselves  to  their  heels,  and  left  this  good  man  to  shift 
for  himself.  Now  after  a  while  Little-faith  came  to  himself,  and  get- 
ting up,  made  shift  to  scrabble  on  his  way.  This  was  the  story. 
Hope.  But  did  they  take  from  him  all  that  ^er  he  had} 
Chr.   No :  the  place  where  his  Jewels  were,  they  never  ransack'd. 


142 


so  those  he  kept  still;  but  as,  I  was  told,  the  good  man  was  much 
afflicted  for  his  loss.  For  the  Thieves  got  most  of  his  spending 
Money.  That  which  they  got  not  (as  I  said)  were  Jewels,  also  he 
had  a  little  odd  Money  left,  but  scarce  enough  to  bring  him  to  his 
Journeys  end ;  nay,  (if  I  was  not  mis-informed)  he  was  forced  to  beg 
as  he  went,  to  keep  himself  alive,  (for  his  Jewels  he  might  not  sell.) 
But  beg,  and  do  what  he  could,  he  ivent  (as  we  say)  ivith  many  a 
hungry  belly,  the  most  part  of  the  rest  of  the  way. 

Hope.  But  is  it  not  a  ivonder  they  got  not  from  him  his  Certificate, 
by  l^hich  he  ivas  to  receive  his  admittance  at  the  Ccelestial  gate  ? 

Chr.  'Tis  a  wonder,  but  they  got  not  that :  though  they  mist  it  not 
through  any  good  cunning  of  his,  for  he  being  dismayed  with  their 
coming  upon  him,  had  neither  power  nor  skill  to  hide  any  thing :  so 
'twas  more  by  good  Providence  than  by  his  endeavour,  that  they  mist 
of  that  good  thing. 

Hope.  But  it  mast  needs  be  a  comfort  to  him,  that  they  got  not  this 
Jewel  from  him. 

Chr.  It  might  have  been  great  comfort  to  him,  had  he  used  it  as  he 
should ;  but  they  that  told  me  the  story,  said.  That  he  made  but  little 
use  of  it  all  the  rest  of  the  way ;  and  that  because  of  the  dismay  that 
he  had  in  their  taking  away  of  his  Money :  indeed  he  forgot  it  a  great 
part  of  the  rest  of  the  Journey ;  and  besides,  when  at  any  time,  it 
came  into  his  mind,  and  he  began  to  be  comforted  therewith,  then 
would  fresh  thoughts  of  his  loss  come  again  upon  him,  and  those 
thoughts  would  swallow  up  all. 

Hope.  Alas  poor  Man  I  this  could  not  but  be  a  great  grief  unto  him. 

Chr.  Grief !  Ay,  a  grief  indeed,  would  it  not  have  been  so  to  any  of 
us,  had  we  been  used  as  he,  to  be  robbed  and  wounded  too,  and  that 
in  a  strange  place,  as  he  was  ?  'Tis  a  wonder  he  did  not  die  with 
grief,  poor  heart !  I  was  told,  that  he  scattered  almost  all  the  rest  of 
the  way  with  nothing  but  doleful  and  bitter  complaints.  Telling  also 
to  all  that  over-took  him,  or  that  he  over-took  in  the  way  as  he  went, 
where  he  was  robbed,  and  how ;  who  they  were  that  did  it,  and  what 
he  lost ;  how  he  was  wounded,  and  that  he  hardly  escaped  with  life. 

Hope.  But  'tis  a  'ti)onder  that  his  necessities  did  not  pat  him  upon 
selling,  or  pawning  some  of  his  Je=wels,  that  he  might  have  ivherewith 
to  relieve  himself  in  his  Journey. 

Chr.  Thou  talkest  like  one  upon  whose  head  is  the  Shell  to  this  very 


143 


3 

o 

C 
<4 


<« 

b 


i 

(4 

C 


c 

<4 


u 


b« 

I 
I 

n 
o 

PQ 

6 
o 


c 

C 
o 

i 

8 


>13 


C 


a 

i4 


day :  For  what  should  he  paivn  them  ?  or  to  whom  should  he  sell 
them  ?  In  all  that  Country  where  he  was  Robbed,  his  Jewels  were  not 
accounted  of,  nor  did  he  want  that  relief  which  could  from  thence  be 
administred  to  him ;  besides,  had  his  Jewels  been  missing  at  the  Gate 
of  the  Ccelestial  City,  he  had  (and  that  he  knew  well  enough)  been 
excluded  from  an  Inheritance  there ;  and  that  would  have  been  worse 
to  him  than  the  appearance  and  villany  of  ten  thousand  Thieves. 

Hope.  Why  art  thou  so  tart  my  Brother  ?  Esau  sold  his  Birth- 
right, and  that  for  a  mess  of  Pottage;  and  that  Birth-right  7i>as 
his  greatest  JeTVel ;  and  if  he,  ivhy  might  not  Little-Faith  do  so 
too? 

Chr.  Esau  did  sell  his  Birth-right  indeed,  and  so  do  many  besides ; 
and  by  so  doing,  exclude  themselves  from  the  chief  blessing,  as  also 
that  Caitiff  did.  But  you  must  put  a  difference  betwixt  Esau  and 
Little-faith,  and  also  betwixt  their  Estates.  Esau's  Birth-right  was 
typical,  but  Little- faith's  Jewels  were  not  so.  Esau's  belly  was  his 
God,  but  Little- faith 's  belly  was  not  so.  Esau 's  want  lay  in  his  fleshly 
appetite.  Little- faith's  did  not  so.  Besides,  Esau  could  see  no  further 
than  to  the  fulfilling  of  his  Lusts,  For  L  am  at  the  point  to  die,  said  he, 
and  what  good  'will  this  Birth-right  do  me  ?  But  Little- faith  though 
it  was  his  lot  to  have  but  a  little  faith,  was  by  his  little  faith  kept  from 
such  extravagances ;  and  made  to  see  and  prize  his  Jewels  more,  than 
to  sell  them,  as  Esau  did  his  Birth-right.  You  read  not  any  where 
that  Esau  had  faith,  no  not  so  much  as  a  little.  Therefore  no  mar- 
vel, if  where  the  flesh  only  bears  sway  (as  it  will  in  that  Man  where 
no  faith  is  to  resist)  if  he  sells  his  Birth-right,  and  his  Soul  and  all,  and 
that  to  the  Devil  of  Hell ;  for  it  is  with  such,  as  it  is  with  the  Ass, 
Who  in  her  occasions  cannot  be  turned  aivay.  When  their  minds  are 
set  upon  their  Lusts,  they  will  have  them  whatever  they  cost.  But 
Little-faith  was  of  another  temper,  his  mind  was  on  things  Divine ; 
his  livelihood  was  upon  things  that  were  Spiritual,  and  from  above. 
Therefore  to  what  end  should  he  that  is  of  such  a  temper  sell  his 
Jewels,  (had  there  been  any  that  would  have  bought  them)  to  fill  his 
mind  with  empty  things  ?  Will  a  man  give  a  penny  to  fill  his  belly 
with  hay  ?  or  can  you  perswade  the  Turtle-dove  to  live  upon  Carrion, 
like  the  Croiv  ?  Though  faithless  ones,  can  for  carnal  Lusts,  pawn, 
or  mortgage,  or  sell  what  they  have,  and  themselves  outright  to  boot ; 


145 


yet  they  that  have  faith,  sa'hing  faith,  though  but  a  little  of  it,  cannot 
do  so.     Here  therefore,  my  Brother,  is  thy  mistake. 

Hope.  /  ackno'it>ledge  it ;  bat  yet  your  severe  reflection  had  almost 
made  me  angry, 

Chr.  Why,  I  did  but  compare  thee  to  some  of  the  Birds  that  are 
of  the  brisker  sort,  who  will  run  to  and  fro  in  trodden  paths  with  the 
shell  upon  their  heads :  but  pass  by  that,  and  consider  the  matter  under 
debate,  and  all  shall  be  well  betwixt  thee  and  me. 

Hope.  But  Christian,  These  three  felloes,  I  am  persivaded  in  my 
heart,  are  but  a  company  of  Cowards :  would  they  have  run  else,  think 
you,  as  they  did,  at  the  noise  of  one  that  was  coming  on  the  road  ? 
Why  did  not  Little-faith  pluck  up  a  greater  heart}  He  might, 
methinks,  have  stood  one  brush  ivith  them,  and  have  yielded 
when  there  ivas  no  remedy. 

Chr.  That  they  are  Cowards,  many  have  said,  but  few  have  found 
it  so  in  the  time  of  Trial.  As  for  a  great  heart.  Little- faith  had  none ; 
and  I  perceive  by  thee,  my  brother,  hadst  thou  been  the  Man  concerned, 
thou  art  but  for  a  brush,  and  then  to  yield.  And  verily,  since  this  is 
the  height  of  thy  Stomach  now  they  are  at  a  distance  from  us,  should 
they  appear  to  thee,  as  they  did  to  him,  they  might  put  thee  to  second 
thoughts. 

But  consider  again,  they  are  but  Journeymen-Thieves,  they  serve 
under  the  King  of  the  Bottomless  pit;  who,  if  need  be,  will  come  in  to 
their  aid  himself,  and  his  voice  is  as  the  roaring  of  a  Lion.  I  myself 
have  been  engaged  as  this  Little-faith  was,  and  I  found  it  a  terrible 
thing.  These  three  Villains  set  upon  me,  and  I  beginning  like  a 
Christian  to  resist,  they  gave  but  a  call,  and  in  came  their  Master.  I 
would,  as  the  saying  is,  have  given  my  life  for  a  penny ;  but  that,  as 
God  would  have  it,  I  was  cloathed  with  Armour  of  proof.  Ay,  and 
yet  though  I  was  so  harnessed,  I  found  it  hard  work  to  quit  myself 
like  a  man ;  no  man  can  tell  what  in  that  Combat  attends  us,  but  he 
that  hath  been  in  the  Battle  himself. 

Hope.  Well,  but  they  ran,  you  see,  when  they  did  but  suppose  that 
one  Great-grace  l^as  in  the  lijay. 

Chr.  True,  they  have  often  fled,  both  they  and  their  Master,  when 


146 


u 


Great-grace  hath  but  appeared, 
and  no  marvel,  for  he  is  the 
King's  Champion.  But  I  tro, 
you  will  put  some  difference 
between  Little-faith  and  the 
King's  Champion ;  all  the 
King's  Subjects  are  not  his 
Champions :  nor  can  they? 
when  tried,  do  such  feats  of 
War  as  he.  Is  it  meet  to  think 
that  a  little  child  should  handle 
Goliah  as  David  did  ?  or  that 
there  should  be  the  strength  of 
an  Ox  in  a  Wren?  Some  are 
strong,  some  are  weak,  some 
have  great  faith,  some  have 
little:  this  man  was  one  of  the 
weak,  and  therefore  he  went  to 
the  walls. 

Hope.  /  Tijould  it  had  been 
Great-grace,  for  their  sakes. 

Chr.  If  it  had  been  he,  he 
might  have  had  his  hands  full. 


One  Great-grace  was  in  the  way. 


For  I  must  tell  you.  That  though  Great-grace  is  excellent  good  at  his 
Weapons,  and  has  and  can,  so  long  as  he  keeps  them  at  Sword's 
point,  do  well  enough  with  them :  yet  if  they  get  within  him,  even 
Faint-heart,  Mistrust,  or  the  other,  it  shall  go  hard  but  they  will 
throw  up  his  heels.  And  when  a  man  is  down,  you  know  what 
can  he  do. 

Whoso  looks  well  upon  Great-grace's  face,  shall  see  those  Scars 
and  Cuts  there,  that  shall  easily  give  demonstration  of  what  I  say. 
Yea  once  I  heard  he  should  say  (and  that  when  he  was  in  the  Com- 
bat) We  despaired  even  of  life :  How  did  these  sturdy  Rogues  and 
their  Fellows  make  David  groan,  mourn,  and  roar?  Yea,  Neman, 
and  Hezekiah  too,  though  Champions  in  their  day,  were  forced  to  be- 


147 


\^ 


:^o5 


•c^gi 


fo^^-^ 


v<l^ 


I) 


6 


stir  them,  when  by  these  assaulted;  and  yet,  that  notwithstanding, 
they  had  their  Coats  soundly  brushed  by  them.  Peter  upon  a  time 
would  go  try  what  he  could  do ;  but,  though  some  do  say  of  him  that 
he  is  the  Prince  of  the  Apostles,  they  handled  him  so,  that  they  made 
him  at  last  afraid  of  a  sorry  Girl. 

Besides,  their  King  is  at  their  Whistle,  he  is  never  out  of  hearing ; 
and  if  at  any  time  they  be  put  to  the  worst,  he,  if  possible,  comes  in  to 
help  them.  And  of  him  it  is  said.  The  Sword  of  him  that  layeth  at 
htm  cannot  hold  the  Spear,  the  Dart,  nor  the  Habergeon.  He  es- 
teemeth  Iron  as  Straiv,  and  Brass  as  rotten  Wood.  The  Arroiv  can- 
not make  him  flie.  Slingstones  are  turned  with  him  into  stubble. 
Darts  are  counted  as  stubble,  he  laugheth  at  the  shaking  of  a  Spear. 
What  can  a  man  do  in  this  case  ?  'Tis  true,  if  a  man  could  at  every 
turn  have/06'5  Horse,  and  had  skill  and  courage  to  ride  him,  he 
might  do  notable  things.  For  his  neck  is  clothed  with  Thunder,  he 
will  not  be  afraid  as  the  Grashopper,  the  glory  of  his  Nostrils  is  terri- 
ble, he  paweth  in  the  Valley,  rejoyceth  in  his  strength,  and  goeth  out 
to  meet  the  armed  men.  He  mocketh  at  fear,  and  is  not  affrighted, 
neither  turneth  back  from  the  Sword.  The  quiver  rattleth  against 
him,  the  glittering  Spear,  and  the  shield.  He  swalloweth  the  ground 
with  fierceness  and  rage,  neither  believeth  he  that  it  is  the  sound 
of  the  Trumpet.  He  saith  among  the  Trumpets,  Ha,  ha  /  and  he 
smelleth  the  Battel  afar  off,  the  thundring  of  the  Captains,  and  the 
shoutings. 

But  for  such  footmen  as  thee  and  I  are,  let  us  never  desire  to  meet 
with  an  enemy,  nor  vaunt  as  if  we  could  do  better,  when  wc  hear  of 
others  that  they  have  been  foiled,  nor  be  tickled  at  the  thoughts  of  our 
own  manhood,  for  such  commonly  come  by  the  worst  when  tried. 
Witness  Peter,  of  whom  I  made  mention  before.  He  would  swagger, 
Ay  he  would :  He  would,  as  his  vain  mind  prompted  him  to  say,  do 
better,  and  stand  more  for  his  Master,  than  all  men:  But  who  so 
foiled,  and  run  down  by  these  Villains,  as  he  ? 

When  therefore  we  hear  that  such  Robberies  are  done  on  the  King's 
High-way,  two  things  become  us  to  do;  first  to  go  out  Harnessed, 
and  to  be  sure  to  take  a  Shield  with  us.  For  it  was  for  want  of  that, 
that  he  that  laid  so  lustily  at  Leviathan  could  not  make  him  yield.  For 
indeed,  if  that  be  wanting,  he  fears  us  not  at  all.     Therefore  he  that 

148 


i2i 


E-o 


^')( 


V^c) 


'CVJ- 


^.' 


»c 


:^ 


had  skill,  hath  said,  Above 
all  take  theShield  of  Faith, 
ivhere'with  ye  shall  be  able 
to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts 
of  the  ivicked. 

'Tis  good  also  that  we 
desire  of  the  King  a  Con- 
voy, yea  that  he  will  go 
with  us  himself.  This 
madz  David  rqoycc  when 
in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death ;  and  cMoses  was 
rather  for  dying  where  he 
stood,  than  to  go  one  step 
without  his  God.  O  my 
Brother,  if  he  will  but  go 
along  with  us,  what  need 
we  be  afraid  of  ten  thou- 
sands that  shall  set  them- 
selves against  us,  but  with- 
out him,  the  proud  helpers 
fall  under  the  slain, 

I  for  my  part  have  been 

in  the  fray  before  now,  and  ^°°'  kittle-faith  l     Hast  been  among  the  Thieves  ? 

though  (through  the  goodness  of  him  that  is  best)  I  am  as  you  see  alive : 
yet  I  cannot  boast  of  my  manhood.  Glad  shall  I  be,  if  I  meet  with  no 
more  such  brunts,  though  I  fear  we  are  not  got  beyond  all  danger. 
However,  since  the  Lion  and  the  Bear  hath  not  as  yet  devoured  me,  I 
hope  God  will  also  deliver  us  from  the  next  uncircumcised  Philistine. 

Poor  Little-faith  !    Hast  been  among  the  Thieves  ? 
Wast  robb'd!    Remember  this,  Who  so  believes 
And  gets  more  faith,  shall  then  a  Victor  be 
Over  ten  thousand,  else  scarce  over  three. 

So  they  went  on,  and  Ignorance  followed.    They  went  then  till  they 
came  at  a  place  where  they  saw  a  'ivay  put  itself  into  their  ivay,  and 

149 


3*1^ 


^J 


A 


u 


c 
c 


O 

a 


S 


o 

be 

C 

1 
o 

u 

c 
O 

bo 
C 

"H 
C5 


"S. 


seemed  withal  to  lie  as  straight  as  the  way  which  they  should  go; 
and  here  they  knew  not  which  of  the  two  to  take,  for  both  seemed 
straight  before  them ;  therefore  here  they  stood  still  to  consider.  And 
as  they  were  thinking  about  the  way,  behold  a  man  black  of  flesh,  but 
covered  with  a  very  light  Robe,  came  to  them  and  asked  them.  Why 
they  stood  there  ?  They  answered.  They  were  going  to  the  Coelestial 
City,  but  knew  not  which  of  these  ways  to  take.  Follow  me,  said  the 
man,  it  is  thither  that  I  am  going.  So  they  followed  him  in  the  way 
that  but  now  came  into  the  road,  which  by  degrees  turned,  and  turned 
them  so  from  the  City  tfiat  they  desired  to  go  to,  that  in  little  time  their 
faces  were  turned  away  from  it ;  yet  they  followed  him.  But  by  and 
by,  before  they  were  aware,  he  led  them  both  within  the  compass  of  a 
Net,  in  which  they  were  both  so  entangled  that  they  knew  not  what 
to  do ;  and  with  that,  the  ivhtte  robe  fell  off  the  black  man 's  back  ; 
then  they  saw  where  they  were.  Wherefore  there  they  lay  crying 
sometime,  for  they  could  not  get  themselves  out. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow.  Now  do  I  see  my  self  in  an 
error.  Did  not  the  Shepherds  bid  us  beware  of  the  flatterers  ?  As  is 
the  saying  of  the  Wise  man,  so  we  have  found  it  this  day :  A  man 
that  flattereth  his  Neighbour,  spreadeth  a  Net  for  his  feet. 

Hope.  They  also  gave  us  a  note  of  directions  about  the  way,  for 
our  more  sure  finding  thereof :  but  therein  we  have  also  forgotten  to 
read,  and  have  not  kept  ourselves  from  the  Paths  of  the  destroyer. 
Here  David  was  wiser  than  we ;  for  saith  he.  Concerning  the  ti>orks 
of  men,  by  the  ivord  of  thy  lips,  I  have  kept  me  from  the  Paths  of  the 
destroyer.  Thus  they  lay  bewailing  themselves  in  the  Net.  At  last 
they  espied  a  shining  One  coming  towards  them,  with  a  whip  of  small 
cord  in  his  hand.  When  he  was  come  to  the  place  where  they  were, 
He  asked  them  whence  they  came  ?  and  what  they  did  there  ?  They 
told  him.  That  they  were  poor  Pilgrims  going  to  Sion,  but  were  led 
out  of  their  way,  by  a  black  man,  cloathed  in  white,  who  bid  us,  said 
they,  follow  him ;  for  he  was  going  thither  too.  Then  said  he  with 
the  Whip,  it  is  Flatterer,  a  false  Apostle,  that  hath  transformed  him- 
self into  an  Angel  of  light.  So  he  rent  the  Net,  and  let  the  men  out. 
Then  said  he  to  them.  Follow  me,  that  I  may  set  you  in  your  way 
again ;  so  he  led  them  back  to  the  way,  which  they  had  left  to  follow 


151 


..■.■...,.■■■..,.■■.■...■■... ■^^'•'••\'-^.i'?'^7r^^P?^^'^^??r-3?TT???r^;-.\-.;\%v/??J^^^^35yrrr'T^^  i........rrri 


the  Flatterer.  Then  he  asked  them,  saying,  Where  did  you  lie  the  last 
night  ?  They  said,  with  the  Shepherds  upon  the  delectable  Mountains. 
He  asked  them  then.  If  they  had  not  of  them  Shepherds  a  note  of  direc- 
tion for  the  ivay  ?  They  answered.  Yes.  But  did  you,  said  he,  when 
you  was  at  a  stand,  pluck  out  and  read  your  note  ?  They  answered. 
No.  He  asked  them  why?  They  said  they  forgot.  He  asked, 
moreover,  E  the  Shepherds  did  not  bid  them  beware  of  the  Flatterer  ? 
They  answered.  Yes;  But  we  did  not  imagine,  said  they,  that  this 
fine-spoken  man  had  been  he. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  he  commanded  them  to  lie  dotun  ; 
which  when  they  did,  he  chastised  them  sore,  to  teach  them  the  good 
way  wherein  they  should  walk;  and  as  he  chastised  them,  he  said. 
As  many  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten  ;  be  zealous  therefore,  and 
repent.  This  done,  he  bids  them  go  on  their  way,  and  take  good  heed 
to  the  other  directions  of  the  Shepherds.  So  they  thanked  him  for  all 
his  kindness,  and  went  softly  along  the  right  way. 

Come  hither,  you  that  ivalk  along  the  ivay  / 
See  hoiv  the  Pilgrims  fare,  that  go  astray  ! 
They  catched  are  in  an  intangling  Net, 
'Cause  they  good  Counsel  lightly  did  forget : 
'Tis  true,  they  rescu'd  ivere,  but  yet  you  see 
They're  scourg'd  to  boot :  Let  this  your  caution  be. 

Now  after  a  while,  they  perceived  afar  off,  one  coming  softly  and 
alone,  all  along  the  High-way  to  meet  them.  Then  said  Christian 
to  his  fellow.  Yonder  is  a  man  with  his  back  toward  Sion,  and  he  is 
coming  to  meet  us. 

Hope.  I  see  him,  let  us  take  heed  to  ourselves  now,  lest  he  should 
prove  a  Flatterer  also.  So  he  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last 
came  up  unto  them.  His  name  was  Atheist,  and  he  asked  them 
whither  they  were  going  ? 

Chr.    We  are  going  to  the  cMount  Sion. 

Then  Atheist  fell  into  a  very  great  Laughter. 

Chr.    What  is  the  meaning  of  your  Laughter  ? 

Atheist.  I  laugh  to  see  what  ignorant  persons  you  are,  to  take 
upon  you  so  tedious  a  Journey ;  and  yet  are  like  to  have  nothing  but 
your  travel  for  your  pains. 


152 


ryrryrf^f^ 


.v.- 


^'>YA 


'•':rIv.v''';v-;:^^^^^f!^^?^!!^^^'S^^^!!?^ 


S-\^ 


r.y.v 


U.V.- 


.v:>. 


Chr.    Why  man  ?     Do  you  think  ive  shall  not  be  received  ? 

Atheist.  Received !  There  is  no  such  place  as  you  Dream  of,  in 
all  this  World. 

Chr.  Bat  there  is  in  the  World  to  come. 

Atheist.  When  I  was  at  home  in  mine  own  Country  I  heard  as 
you  now  affirm,  and  from  that  hearing  went  out  to  see,  and  have 
been  seeking  this  City  this  twenty  years :  but  find  no  more  of  it,  than 
I  did  the  first  day  I  set  out. 

Chr.  We  haJ>e  both  heard  and  belie'he  that  there  is  such  a  place  to 
be  found. 

Atheist.  Had  not  I,  when  at  home,  believed,  I  had  not  come  thus 
far  to  seek.  But  finding  none,  (and  yet  I  should,  had  there  been  such 
a  place  to  be  found,  for  I  have  gone  to  seek  it  further  than  you)  I 
am  going  back  again,  and  will  seek  to  refresh  myself  with  the  things 
that  I  then  cast  away,  for  hopes  of  that  which  I  now  see  is  not. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian 
to  Hopeful,  his  Fellow,  Is  it    W{.W''^i^'h. 
true  Tiyhich    this  man    hath 
said? 

Hope.  Take  heed,  he  is  one 
of  the  Flatterers;  remember 
what  it  hath  cost  us  once  al- 
ready for  our  harkning  to  such 
kind  of  Fellows.  What !  no 
Mount  Sion !  Did  we  not 
see  from  the  delectable  Moun- 
tains the  Gate  of  the  City? 
Also,  are  we  not  now  to 
walk  by  Faith?  Let  us  go  '^ 
on,  said  Hopeful,  lest  the 
man  with  the  Whip  over- 
takes us  again. 

You  should  have  taught  me 
that  Lesson,whichI  will  round 
you  in  the  ears  withal;  Cease, 
my  son,  to  hear  the  Instruc- 
tion that  causeth  to  err  from 


vii 


-J'Ts, 


,\ti"V 


153 


His  Name  was  Atheist. 


20 


the  ivords  of  kno^Dledge.     I  say,  my  Brother,  cease  to  hear  him,  and 
let  us  believe  to  the  saving  of  the  Soul. 

Chr.  cMy  Brother,  I  did  not  put  the  question  to  thee,  for  that 
I  doubted  of  the  truth  of  our  belief  myself :  but  to  prove  thee,  and 
to  fetch  from  thee  a  fruit  of  the  honesty  of  thy  heart.  As  for  this 
man,  I  knoiv  that  he  is  blinded  by  the  god  of  this  World :  Let  thee 
and  I  go  on,  knoiving  that  ive  have  belief  of  the  Truth,  and  no  lie  is 
of  the  Truth. 

Hope.  Now  do  I  rejoyce  in  the  hope  of  the  Glory  of  God :  So 
they  turned  away  from  the  man;  and  he,  laughing  at  them,  went 
his  way. 

I  saw  then  in  my  Dream,  that  they  went  till  they  came  into  a  cer- 
tain Country,  whose  Air  naturally  tended  to  make  one  drowsy,  if  he 
came  a  stranger  into  it.  And  here  Hopeful  began  to  be  very  dull 
and  heavy  of  sleep,  wherefore  he  said  unto  Christian,  I  do  now  begin 
to  grow  so  drowsy  that  I  can  scarcely  hold  up  mine  eyes ;  let  us  lie 
down  here  and  take  one  Nap. 

Chr.  By  no  means,  said  the  other,  lest  sleeping,  ive  never  eCtoake 
more. 

Hope.  Why  my  Brother?  sleep  is  sweet  to  the  Labouring  man; 
we  may  be  refreshed  if  we  take  a  Nap. 

Chr.  Do  you  not  remember  that  one  of  the  Shepherds  bid  us  be- 
iPoare  of  the  Inchanted  ground?  He  meant  by  that,  that  ive  should 
beivare  of  sleeping  ;  luherefore  let  us  not  sleep  as  do  others,  but  let 
us  ivatch  and  be  sober. 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  myself  in  a  fault,  and  had  I  been  here  alone, 
I  had  by  sleeping  run  the  danger  of  death.  I  see  it  is  true  that  the 
wise  man  saith,  Ihvo  are  better  than  one.  Hitherto  hath  thy  Com- 
pany been  my  mercy ;  and  thou  shall  have  a  good  reivard  for  thy 
labour. 

Chr.  Noiv  then,  said  Christian,  to  prevent  droivsiness  in  this  place, 
let  us  fall  into  good  discourse. 

Hope.  With  all  my  heart,  said  the  other. 

Chr.    Where  shall  ive  begin  ? 

Hope.  Where  God  began  with  us.     But  do  you  begin,  if  you  please. 

When  Saints  do  sleepy  grozu,  let  them  come  hither. 
And  hear  how  these  tivo  Pilgrims  talk  together: 

154 


Do  you  not  remember  that  one  of  the  Shepherds  bid  us  beware  of  the  Inchanted  ground  ? 


m 
$1 


Yea,  let  them  learn  of  them,  in  any  ivise. 
Thus  to  keep  ope  their  droivsy  slumb'ring  eyes. 
Saints'  fello'ujship,  if  it  be  manag'd  ivell, 
Keeps  them  aivake,  and  that  in  spite  of  hell, 

Chr.  Then  Christian  began  and  said,  /  ivill  ask  you  a  question. 
HoJi>  came  you  to  think  at  first  of  doing  as  you  do  noiv  ? 

Hope.  Do  you  mean,  How  came  I  at  first  to  look  after  the  good  of 
my  Soul  ? 

Chr.    Yes,  that  is  my  meaning. 

Hope.  I  continued  a  great  while  in  the  delight  of  those  things  which 
were  seen  and  sold  at  our  fair ;  things  which,  as  I  believe  now,  would 
have  (had  I  continued  in  them  still)  drowned  me  in  perdition  and 
destruction. 

Chr.    What  things  <were  they  ? 

Hope.  All  the  Treasures  and  Riches  of  the  World.  Also  I  de- 
lighted much  in  Rioting,  Revelling,  Drinking,  Swearing,  Lying, 
Qncleanness,  Sabbath-breaking,  and  what  not,  that  tended  to  destroy 
the  Soul.  But  I  found  at  last,  by  hearing  and  considering  of  things 
that  are  Divine,  which  indeed  I  heard  of  you,  as  also  of  beloved  Faith- 
ful, that  was  put  to  death  for  his  Faith  and  good-living  in  Vanity-fair, 
That  the  end  of  these  things  is  death.  And  that  for  these  things'  sake, 
the  ivrath  of  God  cometh  upon  the  children  of  disobedience. 

Chr.  And  did  you  presently  fall  under  the  power  of  this  con- 
viction ? 

Hope.  No,  I  was  not  willing  presently  to  know  the  evil  of  sin,  nor 
the  damnation  that  follows  upon  the  commission  of  it,  but  endeavoured, 
when  my  mind  at  first  began  to  be  shaken  with  the  word,  to  shut  mine 
eyes  against  the  light  thereof. 

Chr.  But  ivhat  ivas  the  cause  of  your  carrying  of  it  thus  to  the 
first  ivorkings  of  God's  blessed  Spirit  upon  you  ? 

Hope.  The  causes  were,  J.  I  was  ignorant  that  this  was  the  work 
of  God  upon  me.  I  never  thought  that,  by  awakenings  for  sin,  God 
at  first  begins  the  conversion  of  a  sinner.  2.  Sin  was  yet  very  sweet  to 
my  flesh,  and  I  was  loth  to  leave  it.  3.  I  could  not  tell  how  to  part  with 
mine  old  Companions;  their  presence  and  actions  were  so  desirable 
unto  me.     4.  The  hours  in  which  convictions  were  upon  me,  were 

15G 


•V, 


"p^ 


W»<*.-, 


wr)i^ 


such  troublesome  and  such  heart-affrighting  hours,  that  I  could  not 
bear,  no  not  so  much  as  the  remembrance  of  them  upon  my  heart. 

Chr.   Then  as  it  seems,  sometimes  you  got  rid  of  your  trouble. 

Hope.  Yes  verily,  but  it  would  come  into  my  mind  again,  and  then 
I  should  be  as  bad,  nay  worse,  than  I  was  before. 

Chr.    Why,  <what  Ttfas  it  that  brought  your  sins  to  mind  again. 

Hope.   Many  things,  as, 

1.  If  I  did  but  meet  a  good  man  in  the  Streets;  or, 

2.  If  I  have  heard  any  read  in  the  Bible ;  or, 

3.  If  mine  Head  did  begin  to  Ake ;  or, 

4.  If  I  were  told  that  some  of  my  Neighbors  were  sick ;  or, 

5.  If  I  heard  the  Bell  toll  for  some  that  were  dead ;  or, 

6.  If  I  thought  of  dying  myself;  or, 

7.  If  I  heard  that  sudden  death  happened  to  others. 

8.  But  especially,  when  I  thought  of  myself,  that  I  must  quickly 
come  to  Judgment. 

Chr.  And  could  you  at  any  time  ivith  ease  get  off  the  guilt  of  sin, 
ivhen  by  any  of  these  Jfays  it  came  upon  you  ? 

Hope.  No,  not  latterly,  for  then  they  got  faster  hold  of  my  Con- 
science. And  then,  if  I  did  but  think  of  going  back  to  sin  (though  my 
mind  was  turned  against  it)  it  would  be  double  torment  to  me. 

Chr.  And  hoiv  did  you  do  then  ? 

Hope.  I  thought  I  must  endeavour  to  mend  my  life,  for  else  thought 
I,  I  am  sure  to  be  damned. 

Chr.   And  did  you  endeavour  to  mend  ? 

Hope.  Yes,  and  fled  from,  not  only  my  sins,  but  sinful  Com- 
pany too ;  and  betook  me  to  Religious  Duties,  as  Praying,  Reading, 
weeping  for  Sin,  speaking  Truth  to  my  Neighbors,  etc.  These  things 
I  did,  with  many  others,  too  much  here  to  relate. 

Chr.  And  did  you  think  yourself  'well  then  ? 

Hope.  Yes,  for  a  while ;  but  at  the  last  my  trouble  came  tumbling 
upon  me  again,  and  that  over  the  neck  of  all  my  Reformations. 

Chr.  Hoiv  came  that  about,  since  you  luas  noiv  Reformed  ? 

Hope.  There  were  several  things  brought  it  upon  me,  especially 
such  sayings  as  these ;  All  our  righteousnesses  are  as  filthy  rags.  By 
the  ivorks  of  the  Laiv  no  man  shall  be  justified.  When  you  have 
done  all  things,  say,  ive  are  unprofitable :  with  many  more  the  like. 

157 


/f.'-i'-:-:--: 


/'..■•'■••■> 


i 


From  whence  I  began  to  reason  with  my  self  thus :  If  all  my  right- 
eousnesses are  filthy  rags,  if  by  the  deeds  of  the  Law,  no  man  can  be 
justified;  And  if,  when  we  have  done  all,  we  are  yet  unprofitable: 
Then  'tis  but  a  folly  to  think  of  Heaven  by  the  Law.  I  further 
thought  thus:  K  a  Man  runs  an  J 00  1.  into  the  Shop-keeper's  debt,  and 
after  that  shall  pay  for  all  that  he  shall  fetch ;  yet  his  old  debt  stands 
still  in  the  Book  uncrossed,  for  the  which  the  Shop-keeper  may  sue 
him,  and  cast  him  into  Prison  till  he  shall  pay  the  debt. 

Chr.    Well,  and  hcnv  did  you  apply  this  to  yourself? 

Hope.  Why,  I  thought  thus  with  myself :  I  have  by  my  sins  run  a 
great  way  into  God's  Book,  and  that  my  now  reforming  will  not  pay 
off  that  score;  therefore  I  should  think  still  under  all  my  present 
amendments.  But  how  shall  I  be  freed  from  that  damnation  that  I  have 
brought  myself  in  danger  of  by  my  former  transgressions  ? 

Chr.  a  very  good  application :  but  pray  go  on. 

Hope.  Another  thing  that  hath  troubled  me,  even  since  my  late 
amendments,  is,  that  if  I  look  narrowly  into  the  best  of  what  I  do  now, 
I  still  see  sin,  new  sin,  mixing  itself  with  the  best  of  that  I  do.  So 
that  now  I  am  forced  to  conclude,  that  notwithstanding  my  former 
fond  conceits  of  myself  and  duties,  I  have  committed  sin  enough  in  one 
duty  to  send  me  to  Hell,  though  my  former  life  had  been  faultless. 

Chr.  And  ivhat  did  you  do  then  ? 

Hope.  Do!  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do,  till  I  brake  my  mind  to 
Faithful;  for  he  and  I  were  well  acquainted:  And  he  told  me.  That 
unless  I  could  obtain  the  righteousness  of  a  man  that  never  had  sinned, 
neither  mine  own,  nor  all  the  righteousness  of  the  World  could  save  me. 

Chr.  And  did  you  think  he  spake  true  ? 

Hope.  Had  he  told  me  so  when  I  was  pleased  and  satisfied  with 
mine  own  amendments,  I  had  called  him  Fool  for  his  pains :  but  now, 
since  I  see  my  own  infirmity,  and  the  sin  that  cleaves  to  my  best  per- 
formance, I  have  been  forced  to  be  of  his  opinion. 

Chr.  But  did  you  think,  ivhen  at  first  he  suggested  it  to  you,  that 
there  ivas  such  a  man  to  be  found,  of  ivhom  it  might  Justly  be  said. 
That  he  ne^er  committed  sin  ? 

Hope.  I  must  confess  the  words  at  first  sounded  strangely,  but  after 
a  little  more  talk  and  company  with  him,  I  had  full  conviction  about  it. 

Chr.  And  did  you  ask  him  l:i)hat  man  this  ivas,  and  hoiv  you 
must  be  justified  by  him  ? 

158 


JiMSii 


Hope.  Yes,  and  he  told  me  it  was  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  dwelleth  on 
the  right  hand  of  the  most  High:  and  thus,  said  he,  you  must  be 
justified  by  him,  even  by  trusting  to  what  he  hath  done  by  himself  in 
the  days  of  his  flesh,  and  suffered  when  he  did  hang  on  the  Tree.  I 
asked  him  further.  How  that  man's  righteousness  could  be  of  that  effi- 
cacy, to  justify  another  before  God  ?  And  he  told  me.  He  was  the 
mighty  God,  and  did  what  he  did,  and  died  the  death  also,  not  for  him- 
self, but  for  me ;  to  whom  his  doings,  and  the  worthiness  of  them 
should  be  imputed,  if  I  believed  on  him. 

Chr.  And  ivhat  did  you  do  then  ? 

Hope.  I  made  my  objections  against  my  believing,  for  that  I  thought 
he  was  not  willing  to  save  me. 

Chr.   c/lnd  ivhat  said  Faithful  to  you  then  ? 

Hope.  He  bid  me  go  to  him  and  see.  Then  I  said.  It  was  presump- 
tion :  but  he  said,  No ;  for  I  was  invited  to  come.  Then  he  gave  me 
a  Book  oi  Jesus  his  inditing,  to  encourage  me  the  more  freely  to  come. 
And  he  said  concerning  that  Book,  That  every  jot  and  tittle  thereof 
stood  firmer  than  Heaven  and  earth.  Then  I  asked  him.  What  I 
must  do  when  I  came  ?  and  he  told  me,  I  must  entreat  upon  my  knees, 
with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  the  Father  to  reveal  him  to  me.  Then  I 
asked  him  further.  How  I  must  make  my  supplication  to  him  ?  And  he 
said.  Go,  and  thou  shalt  find  him  upon  a  mercy-seat,  where  he  sits  all 
the  year  long,  to  give  pardon  and  forgiveness  to  them  that  come.  I  told 
him  that  I  knew  not  what  to  say  when  I  came :  and  he  bid  me  say  to 
this  effect,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,  and  make  me  to  knoiv  and 
believe  in  Jesus  Christ ;  for  I  see  that  if  his  righteousness  had  not 
been,  or  I  have  not  faith  in  that  righteousness,  lam  utterly  cast  aivay. 
Lord,  I  have  heard  that  thou  art  a  merciful  God,  and  hast  ordained 
that  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  should  be  the  Saviour  of  the  World ;  and 
moreover,  that  thou  art  ivilling  to  bestoui  him  upon  such  a  poor  sin- 
ner as  I  am,  (and  I  am  a  sinner  indeed)  Lord  take  therefore  this  oppor- 
tunity, and  magnify  thy  grace  in  the  Salvation  of  my  soul,  through  thy 
Son  Jesus  Christ,  Amen. 

Chr.   And  did  you  do  as  you  ivere  bidden  ? 

Hope.   Yes ;  over,  and  over,  and  over. 

Chr.  And  did  the  Father  reT^eal  his  Son  to  you  ? 

Hope.  Not  at  the  first,  nor  second,  nor  third,  nor  fourth,  nor  fifth, 
no,  nor  at  the  sixth  time  neither. 

159 


■hm^: 


®y>o 


oo 


Chr.    What  did  you  do  then  ? 

Hope.  What !  why  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do. 

Chr.  Had  you  not  thoughts  of  lea'btng  off  praying  ? 

Hope.  Yes,  an  hundred  times,  twice  told. 

Chr.  And  ti)hat  was  the  reason  you  did  not  ? 

Hope.  I  believed  that  that  was  true  which  had  been  told  me;  to 
ivit.  That  without  the  righteousness  of  this  Christ,  all  the  World 
could  not  save  me :  and  therefore  thought  I  with  myself,  If  I  leave  off, 
I  die;  and  I  can  but  die  at  the  throne  of  Grace.  And  withal,  this 
came  into  my  mind.  If  it  tarry,  tvait  for  it,  because  it  ivitl  surely 
come,  and  ti}ill  not  tarry.  So  I  continued  praying  until  the  Father 
shewed  me  his  Son. 

Chr.  And  hoiv  ivas  he  revealed  unto  you  ? 

Hope.  I  did  not  see  him  with  my  bodily  eyes,  but  with  the  eyes  of 
mine  understanding;  and  thus  it  was.  One  day  I  was  very  sad, 
I  think  sadder  than  at  any  one  time  in  my  life ;  and  this  sadness  was 
through  a  fresh  sight  of  the  greatness  and  vileness  of  my  sins.  And 
as  I  was  then  looking  for  nothing  but  Hell,  and  the  everlasting  dam- 
nation of  my  Soul,  suddenly,  as  I  thought,  I  saw  the  Lord  Jesus  look 
down  from  Heaven  upon  me,  and  saying.  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved. 

But  I  replied.  Lord,  I  am  a  great,  a  very  great  sinner;  and  he 
answered,  cMy  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.  Then  I  said.  But  Lord, 
what  is  believing  ?  And  then  I  saw  from  that  saying,  [ife  that  cometh 
to  me  shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall  never 
thirst]  that  believing  and  coming  was  all  one ;  and  that  he  that  came, 
that  is,  ran  out  in  his  heart  and  affections  after  salvation  by  Christ,  he 
indeed  believed  in  Christ.  Then  the  water  stood  in  mine  eyes,  and 
I  asked  further.  But  Lord,  may  such  a  great  sinner  as  I  am,  be  indeed 
accepted  of  thee,  and  be  saved  by  thee  ?  And  I  heard  him  say,  And 
him  that  cometh  to  me,  I  l^ill  in  no  wise  cast  out.  Then  I  said.  But 
how.  Lord,  must  I  consider  of  thee  in  my  coming  to  thee,  that  my 
faith  may  be  placed  aright  upon  thee?  Then  he  said,  Christ  Jesus 
came  into  the  World  to  sal>e  sinners.  He  is  the  end  of  the  Law  for 
righteousness  to  every  one  that  believes.  He  died  for  our  sins,  and 
rose  again  for  our  justification.  He  lolled  us,  andivashedus  from  our 
sins  in  his  own  blood.  He  is  cMediator  betiveen  God  and  us.  He 
ever  li'beth  to  make  intercession  for  us.     From  all  which  I  gathered 


o*.H® 


•©o 


,®: 


®^ 


that  I  must  look  for  righteousness  in  his  person,  and  for  satisfaction  for 
my  sins  by  nis  blood ;  that  what  he  did  in  obedience  to  his  Father's 
Law,  and  in  submitting  to  the  penalty  thereof,  was  not  for  himself,  but 
for  him  that  will  accept  it  for  his  Salvation,  and  be  thankful.  And 
now  was  my  heart  full  of  joy,  mine  eyes  full  of  tears,  and  mine  affections 
running  over  with  love  to  the  Name,  People,  and  Ways  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Chr.  This  7t>as  a  Revelation  of  Christ  to  your  soul  indeed.  Bat 
tell  me  particularly  'what  effect  this  had  upon  your  spirit. 

Hope.  It  made  me  see  that  all  the  World,  notwithstanding  all  the 
righteousness  thereof,  is  in  a  state  of  condemnation.  It  made  me  see 
that  God  the  Father,  though  he  be  just,  can  justly  justify  the  coming 
sinner.  It  made  me  greatly  ashamed  of  the  vileness  of  my  former  life, 
and  confounded  me  with  the  sense  of  mine  own  Ignorance ;  for  there 
never  came  thought  into  mine  heart  before  now  that  shewed  me  so  the 
beauty  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  made  me  love  a  holy  life,  and  long  to  do 
something  for  the  Honour  and  Glory  of  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 
Yea  I  thought,  that  had  I  now  a  thousand  gallons  of  blood  in  my 
body,  I  could  spill  it  all  for  the  sake  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

I  then  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  Hopeful  looked  back  and  saw  Igno- 
rance, whom  they  had  left  behind,  coming  after.  Look,  said  he  to 
Christian,  hoiv  far  yonder  Youngster  loitereth  behind. 

Chr.   Ay,  ay,  I  see  him ;  he  careth  not  for  our  Company. 

Hope.  But  I  tro,  it  ivould  not  ha't>e  hurt  him,  had  he  kept  pace 
with  us  hitherto. 

Chr.   That's  true,  but  I  warrant  you  he  thinketh  otherwise. 

Hope.  That  I  think  he  doth,  but  hoioever  let  us  tarry  for  him. 
So  they  did. 

Then  Christian  said  to  him.  Come  aTiiay  man  ;  luhy  do  you  stay  so 
behind? 

Ign.  I  take  my  pleasure  in  walking  alone,  even  more  a  great  deal 
than  in  Company,  unless  I  like  it  the  better. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful  (but  softly)  Did  I  not  tell  you,  he 
cared  not  for  our  Company.  But  hoivever,  come  up,  and  let  us  talk 
aivay  the  time  in  this  solitary  place.  Then  directing  his  Speech  to 
Ignorance,  he  said.  Come,  hoiv  do  you  ?  hoiv  stands  it  between  God 
and  your  Soul  noiv  ? 

Ign.  I  hope  well,  for  I  am  always  full  of  good  motions  that  come 
into  my  mind  to  comfort  me  as  I  walk. 

161 


I® 


21 


Chr.    What  good  motions  ?  pray  tell  us. 

Ign.   Why,  I  think  of  God  and  Heaven. 

Chr.  So  do  the  Devils  and  damned  Seals. 

Ign.   But  I  think  of  them,  and  desire  them. 

Chr.  So  do  many  that  are  never  like  to  come  there :  The  Soul  of 
the  Sluggard  desires  and  hath  nothing. 

Ign.   But  I  think  of  them,  and  leave  all  for  them. 

Chr.  That  I  doubt ;  for  lea1>ing  of  all  is  an  hard  matter,  yea  a 
harder  matter  then  many  are  aivare  of.  But  Ji)hy,  or  by  ivhat,  art 
thou  perswaded  that  thou  hast  left  all  for  God  and  Heal>en  } 

Ign.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.    The  <wise  man  says.  He  that  trusts  his  own  heart  is  a  fool 

Ign.  This  is  spoken  of  an  evil  heart,  but  mine  is  a  good  one. 

Chr.  But  hoiv  dost  thou  prove  that  ? 

Ign.  It  comforts  me  in  hopes  of  Heaven. 

Chr.  That  may  be  through  its  deceitfulness ;  for  a  mans  heart  may 
minister  comfort  to  him  in  the  hopes  of  that  thing  for  ivhich  he  yet 
has  no  ground  to  hope. 

Ign.  But  my  heart  and  life  agree  together,  and  therefore  my  hope  is 
well  grounded. 

Chr.    Who  told  thee  that  thy  heart  and  life  agree  together  ? 

Ign.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.  Ask  my  Fellow  if  I  be  a  Thief.  Thy  heart  tells  thee  so  1 
Except  the  ivord  of  God  beareth  ivitness  in  this  matter,  other  Testi- 
mony is  of  no  value. 

Ign.  But  is  it  not  a  good  heart  that  has  good  thoughts  ?  And  is 
not  that  a  good  life  that  is  according  to  God's  Commandments  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  that  is  a  good  heart  that  hath  good  thoughts,  and  that  is 
a  good  life  that  is  according  to  God's  Commandments.  But  it  is  one 
thing  indeed  to  halje  these,  and  another  thing  only  to  think  so. 

Ign.  Pray  what  count  you  good  thoughts,  and  a  life  according  to 
God's  Commandments  ? 

Chr.  There  are  good  thoughts  of  divers  kinds,  some  respecting 
ourselves,  some  God,  some  Christ,  and  some  other  things. 

Ign.   What  be  good  thoughts  respecting  ourselves  ? 

Chr.  Such  as  agree  ivith  the  Word  of  God. 

Ign.  When  does  our  thoughts  of  ourselves  agree  with  the  Word  of  God  ? 

162 


Ignorance  is  thy  name,  and  as  thy  name  is,  so  art  thoo 


<> 


,^* 


mp 


^0 


Chr.  WTien  ive  pass  the  same  Judgment  upon  ourselves  ivhich  the 
Word  passes.  To  explain  myself ;  the  Word  of  God  saith  of  persons 
in  a  natural  condition,  There  is  none  Righteous,  there  is  none  that 
doth  good.  It  saith  also,  That  every  imagination  of  the  heart  of  man 
is  only  evil,  and  that  continually.  And  again,  The  imagination  of 
man's  heart  is  evil  from  his  Youth.  Noiv  then,  ivhen  ive  think  thus 
of  ourselves,  having  sense  thereof,  then  are  our  thoughts  good  ones, 
because  according  to  the  Word  of  God. 

Ign.  I  will  never  believe  that  my  heart  is  thus  bad. 

Chr.  Therefore  thou  never  hadst  one  good  thought  concerning  thy- 
self in  thy  life.  But  let  me  go  on  :  As  the  Word  passeth  a  Judgment 
upon  our  HEART,  so  it  passeth  a  Judgment  upon  our  WA  YS ;  and 
•when  our  thoughts  of  our  HEARTS  and  WAYS  agree  l^ith  the 
Judgment  'which  the  Word  giveth  of  both,  then  are  both  good,  because 
agreeing  thereto. 

Ign.   Make  out  your  meaning. 

Chr.  Why,  the  Word  of  God  saith.  That  man's  ivays  are  crooked 
'ways,  not  good,  but  perverse.  It  saith.  They  are  naturally  out  of  the 
good  'way,  that  they  have  not  kncnvn  it.  No'w  'k'hen  a  man  thus 
thinketh  of  his  'ii)ays,  I  say  'when  he  doth  sensibly,  and  'with  heart- 
humiliation  thus  think,  then  hath  he  good  thoughts  of  his  O'wn  'ways, 
because  his  thoughts  no'w  agree  'with  the  judgment  of  the  Word 
of  God. 

Ign.  What  are  good  thoughts  concerning  God  ? 

Chr.  Even  {as  I  have  said  concerning  ourselves)  1t>hen  our  thoughts 
^f  God  do  agree  'with  'what  the  Word  saith  of  him.  And  that 
is,  'when  'we  think  of  his  Being  and  Attributes  as  the  Word  hath 
taught :  of  'which  I  cannot  no'w  discourse  at  large.  'But  to  speak  of 
him  'with  reference  to  us,  then  'we  have  right  thoughts  of  God,  "ivhen 
yt>e  think  that  he  knoJifS  us  better  than  we  kno'w  ourselves,  and  can 
see  sin  in  us,  'when  and  yt)here  'we  can  see  none  in  ourselves  ;  'when 
'we  think  he  kno'Ufs  our  inmost  thoughts,  and  that  our  heart  'with 
all  its  depths  is  al'ways  open  unto  his  eyes.  Also  'when  'we  think 
that  all  our  Righteousness  stinks  in  his  Nostrils,  and  that  therefore  he 
cannot  abide  to  see  us  stand  before  him  in  any  confidence  even  of  all 
our  best  performances. 

Ign.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  such  a  fool,  as  to  think  God  can  see 

164 


no  further  than  I  ?  or  that  I  would  come  to  God  in  the  best  of  my 
performances  ? 

Chr.    Why,  hoiv  dost  thou  think  in  this  matter  ? 

Ign.  Why,  to  be  short,  I  think  I  must  believe  in  Christ  for 
Justification. 

Chr.  Ho'ibI  think  thou  mast  believe  in  Christ,  'when  thou  seest 
not  thy  need  of  him!  Thou  neither  seest  thy  original,  or  actual 
infirmities,  but  hast  such  an  opinion  of  thyself,  and  of  what  thou 
doest,  as  plainly  renders  thee  to  be  one  that  did  never  see  a  necessity 
of  Christ's  personal  righteousness  to  justify  thee  before  God :  How 
then  dost  thou  say,  I  believe  in  Christ  ? 

Ign.  I  believe  well  enough  for  all  that. 

Chr.  Ho^u  doest  thou  believe  ? 

Ign.  I  believe  that  Christ  died  for  sinners,  and  that  I  shall  be  justified 
before  God  from  the  curse,  through  his  gracious  acceptance  of  my 
obedience  to  his  Law.  Or  thus,  Christ  makes  my  Duties  that  are  Re- 
ligious acceptable  to  his  Father  by  virtue  of  his  Merits ;  and  so  shall  I 
be  justified. 

Chr.  Let  me  give  an  answer  to  this  confession  of  thy  faith. 

1.  Thou  believest  with  a  Fantastical  Faith,  for  this  faith  is  no 
ivhere  described  in  the  Word. 

2.  Thou  believest  'ti>ith  a  False  Faith,  because  it  taketh  Justification 
from  the  personal  righteousness  of  Christ,  and  applies  it  to  thy  own. 

3.  This  faith  maketh  not  Christ  ajustifier  of  thy  person,  but  of  thy 
actions  ;  and  of  thy  person  for  thy  actions'  sake,  luhich  is  false. 

4.  Therefore  this  faith  is  deceitful,  even  such  as  JPill  leave  thee 
under  wrath,  in  the  day  of  God  Almighty.  For  true  Justifying  Faith 
puts  the  soul  (as  sensible  of  its  lost  condition  by  the  Law)  upon  fly- 
ing for  refuge  unto  Christ's  righteousness :  ( Which  righteousness  of 
his,  is  not  an  act  of  grace,  by  which  he  maketh  for  Justification  thy 
obedience  accepted  ivith  God,  but  his  personal  obedience  to  the  Laiv 
in  doing  and  suffering  for  us,  what  that  required  at  our  hands.)  This 
righteousness,  I  say,  true  faith  accepteth,  under  the  skirt  of  which, 
the  soul  being  shrouded,  and  by  it  presented  as  spotless  before  God,  it 
is  accepted,  and  acquit  from  condemnation. 

Ign.  What !  would  you  have  us  trust  to  what  Christ  in  his  own 
person  has  done  without  us !    This  conceit  would  loosen  the  reins  of 

165 


■5 


our  lust,  and  tolerate  us  to  live  as  we  list.  For  what  matter  how  wc 
live,  if  wc  may  be  justified  by  Christ's  personal  righteousness  from  all, 
when  we  believe  it  ? 

Chr.  Ignorance  is  thy  name,  and  as  thy  name  is,  so  art  thou;  even 
this  thy  ansiver  demonstrateth  ivhat  I  say.  Ignorant  thou  art  of  what 
Justifying  righteousness  is,  and  as  ignorant  hoiv  to  secure  thy  Soul 
through  the  faith  of  it,  from  the  heavy  ivrath  of  God.  Yea,  thou 
also  art  ignorant  of  the  true  effects  of  saving  faith  in  this  righteousness 
of  Christ,  ivhich  is,  to  boiv  and  ')i)in  over  the  heart  to  God  in  Christ, 
to  love  his  Name,  his  Word,  Ways,  and  People;  and  not  as  thou 
ignorantly  imaginest. 

Hope.  Ask  him  if  ever  he  had  Christ  revealed  to  him  from  Heaven  ? 

Ign.  What!  You  are  a  man  for  revelations  !  I  believe  that  ivhat 
both  you,  and  all  the  rest  of  you  say  about  that  matter,  is  but  the 
fruit  of  distracted  brains. 

Hope.  Why  man !  Christ  is  so  hid  in  God  from  the  natural  appre- 
hensions of  all  flesh,  that  he  cannot  by  any  man  be  savingly  known, 
unless  God  the  Father  reveals  him  to  them. 

Ign.  That  is  your  faith,  but  not  mine;  yet  mine  I  doubt  not,  is  as 
good  as  yours :  though  I  have  not  in  my  head  so  many  whimsies 
as  you. 

Chr.  Give  me  leave  to  put  in  a  word :  You  ought  not  so  slightly  to 
speak  of  this  matter :  for  this  I  will  boldly  affirm,  (even  as  my  good 
companion  hath  done)  that  no  man  can  know  Jesus  Christ  but  by  the 
Revelation  of  the  Father :  yea,  and  faith  too,  by  which  the  soul  layeth 
hold  upon  Christ  (if  it  be  right)  must  be  wrought  by  the  exceeding 
greatness  of  his  mighty  power ;  the  working  of  which  faith,  I  perceive, 
poor  Ignorance,  thou  art  ignorant  of.  Be  awakened  then,  see  thine 
own  wretchedness,  and  fly  to  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  by  his  righteous- 
ness, which  is  the  righteousness  of  God,  (for  he  himself  is  God)  thou 
shalt  be  delivered  from  condemnation. 

Ign.  You  go  so  fast,  I  cannot  keep  pace  'with  you  ;  do  you  go  on 
before,  I  must  stay  aivhile  behind. 

Then  they  said. 
Well  Ignorance,  wilt  thou  yet  foolish  be 
To  slight  good  Counsel,  ten  times  given  thee  ? 

166 


And  if  thou  yet  refuse  it,  thou  shalt  knoiv 
Ere  long  the  evil  of  thy  doing  so. 
I^emember  man  in  time,  stoop,  do  not  fear. 
Good  Counsel  taken  Tbell,  salves  ;  therefore  hear. 
But  if  thou  yet  shalt  slight  it,  thou  ivilt  be 
The  loser  ( Ignorance)  I'll  ivarrant  thee. 

Then  Christian  addressed  thus  himself  to  his  fellow. 

Chr.  Well,  come  my  good  Hopeful,  I  perceive  that  thou  and  I 
must  walk  by  ourselves  again. 

So  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  they  went  on  apace  before,  and  Igno- 
rance he  came  hobbling  after.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  companion, 
It  pities  me  much  for  this  poor  man,  it  ivill  certainly  go  ill  ivith  him 
at  last. 

Hope.  Alas,  there  are  abundance  in  our  Town  in  his  condition; 
whole  Families,  yea,  whole  Streets,  (and  that  of  Pilgrims  too)  and  if 
there  be  so  many  in  our  parts,  how  many  think  you,  must  there  be  in 
the  place  where  he  was  born  ? 

Chr.  Indeed  the  Word  saith.  He  hath  blinded  their  eyes,  lest  they 
should  see,  &c.  But  noiv  ive  are  by  ourselves,  ivhat  do  you  think  of 
such  men  ?  Have  they  at  no  time,  think  you,  convictions  of  sin,  and 
so  consequently  fears  that  their  state  is  dangerous  ? 

Hope.  Nay,  do  you  answer  that  question  yourself,  for  you  are  the 
elder  man. 

Chr.  Then  I  say  sometimes  {as  I  think)  they  may,  but  they  being 
naturally  ignorant,  understand  not  that  such  cont>ictions  tend  to  their 
good;  and  therefore  they  do  desperately  seek  to  stifle  them,  and  pre- 
sumptuously continue  to  flatter  themselves  in  the  ivay  of  their  own 
hearts. 

Hope.  I  do  believe  as  you  say,  that  fear  tends  much  to  Men's  good 
and  to  make  them  right,  at  their  beginning  to  go  on  Pilgrimage. 

Chr.  Without  all  doubt  it  doth,  if  it  be  right :  for  so  says  the 
ivord.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  Wisdom. 

Hope.  How  will  you  describe  right  fear  ? 

Chr.    True,  or  right  fear,  is  discovered  by  three  things. 

1.  By  its  rise.     It  is  caused  by  saving  convictions  for  sin. 

2.  It  driveth  the  soul  to  lay  fast  hold  of  Christ  for  Salvation. 


J 


^^M 


>^ 


3.  It  begetteth  and  continucth  in  the  soul  a  great  reverence  of  God, 
his  word,  and  ways,  keeping  it  tender,  and  making  it  afraid  to  turn 
from  them,  to  the  right  hand,  or  to  the  left,  to  anything  that  may  dis- 
honour God,  break  its  peace,  grieve  the  Spirit,  or  cause  the  Enemy  fo 
speak  reproachfully. 

Hope.  Well  said,  I  believe  you  have  said  the  truth.  Are  we  now 
almost  got  past  the  enchanted  ground  ? 

Chr.    Why,  are  you  weary  of  this  discourse  ? 

Hope.  No  verily,  but  that  I  would  know  where  we  are. 

Chr.  We  have  not  nozu  abol^e  two  miles  further  to  go  thereon. 
But  let  us  return  to  our  matter.  Now  the  Ignorant  know  not  that 
such  conUctions  that  tend  to  put  them  in  fear,  are  for  their  good,  and 
therefore  they  seek  to  stifle  them. 

Hope.  How  do  they  seek  to  stifle  them  ? 

Chr.  I.  They  think  that  those  fears  are  wrought  by  the  Devil 
(though  indeed  they  are  wrought  of  God)  and  thinking  so,  they  resist 
them,  as  things  that  directly  tend  to  their  overthrow.  2.  They  also 
think  that  these  fears  tend  to  the  spoiling  of  their  faith,  (when  alas  for 
them,  poor  men  that  they  are !  they  have  none  at  all)  and  therefore 
they  harden  their  hearts  against  them.  3.  They  presume  they  ought 
not  to  fear,  and  therefore,  in  despite  of  them,  wax  presumptuously  con- 
fident. 4.  They  see  that  these  fears  tend  to  take  away  from  them 
their  pitiful  old  self-holiness,  and  therefore  they  resist  them  with  all 
their  might. 

Hope.  I  know  something  of  this  myself;  for  before  I  knew  myself 
it  was  so  with  me. 

Chr.  Well,  ive  <will  leave  at  this  time  our  Neighbor  Ignorance  by 
himself,  and  fall  upon  another  profitable  question. 

Hope.  With  all  my  heart,  but  you  shall  still  begin. 

Chr.  Well  then,  did  you  not  knew  about  ten  years  ago,  one 
Temporary  in  your  parts,  who  was  a  forward  man  in  ^ligion  then  ? 

Hope,  Know  him !  Yes,  he  dwelt  in  Graceless,  a  Town  about 
two  miles  off  of  Honesty,  and  he  dwelt  next  door  to  one  Turn-back.      i 

Chr.  Right,  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof  with  him.     Well,  that  \ 
man  was  much  awakened  once;  I  believe  that  then  he  had  some  sight 
of  his  sins,  and  of  the  wages  that  was  due  thereto. 

168 


J^ 


Hope.  1  am  of  your  mind,  for  (my  House  not  being  above  three 
miles  from  him)  he  would  ofttimes  come  to  me,  and  that  with  many 
tears.  Truly  I  pitied  the  man,  and  was  not  altogether  without  hope 
of  him ;  but  one  may  see  it  is  not  every  one  that  cries,  Lord,  Lord, 

Chr.  He  told  me  once.  Thai  he  'was  resolved  to  go  on  Pilgrimage 
as  ive  go  noiv  ;  but  all  of  a  sudden  he  gre^w  acquainted  ivith  one 
Save-self,  and  then  he  became  a  stranger  to  me. 

Hope.  Now  since  we  are  talking  about  him,  let  us  a  little  enquire 
into  the  reason  of  the  sudden  backsliding  of  him  and  such  others. 

Chr.  Lt  may  be  l>ery  profitable,  but  do  you  begin. 

Hope.   Well  then,  there  are  in  my  Judgment  four  reasons  for  it. 

1.  Though  the  Consciences  of  such  men  are  awakened,  yet  their 
minds  are  not  changed :  therefore  when  the  power  of  guilt  weareth 
away,  that  which  provoked  them  to  be  Religious  ceaseth.  Wherefore 
they  naturally  turn  to  their  own  course  again :  even  as  we  see  the  Dog 
that  is  sick  of  what  he  hath  eaten,  so  long  as  his  sickness  prevails  he 
vomits  and  casts  up  all ;  not  that  he  doth  this  of  a  free  mind  (if  we  may 
say  a  Dog  has  a  mind)  but  because  it  troubleth  his  Stomach;  but 
now  when  his  sickness  is  over,  and  so  his  Stomach  eased,  his  desires 
being  not  at  all  alieniate  from  his  vomit,  he  turns  him  about  and  licks 
up  all.  And  so  it  is  true  which  is  written.  The  Dog  is  turned  to  his 
own  7>omit  again.  This,  I  say,  being  hot  for  heaven,  by  virtue  only 
of  the  sense.and  fear  of  the  torments  of  Hell,  as  their  sense  of  Hell  and 
the  fears  of  damnation  chills  and  cools,  so  their  desires  for  Heaven  and 
Salvation  cool  also.  So  then  it  comes  to  pass  that  when  their  guilt 
and  fear  is  gone,  their  desires  for  Heaven  and  Happiness  die,  and  they 
return  to  their  course  again. 

2.  Another  reason  is,  they  have  slavish  fears  that  do  overmaster 
them.  I  speak  now  of  the  fears  that  they  have  of  men :  For  the  fear 
of  men  bringeth  a  snare.  So  then,  though  they  seem  to  be  hot  for 
Heaven,  so  long  as  the  flames  of  Hell  are  about  their  ears,  yet  when 
that  terror  is  a  little  over,  they  betake  themselves  to  second  thoughts : 
namely,  that  'tis  good  to  be  wise,  and  not  to  run  (for  they  know  not 
what)  the  hazard  of  losing  all ;  or  at  least,  of  bringing  themselves  into 
unavoidable  and  unnecessary  troubles:  and  so  they  fall  in  with  the 
world  again. 

169 


r> 


)Pj 


-,* 


^~^' 


3.  The  shame  that  attends  Religion  lies  also  as  a  block  in  their  way; 
they  are  proud  and  haughty,  and  Religion  in  their  eye  is  low  and  con- 
temptible. Therefore  when  they  have  lost  their  sense  of  Hell  and 
wrath  to  come,  they  return  again  to  their  former  course. 

4.  Guilt,  and  to  meditate  terror,  are  grievous  to  them,  they  like  not 
to  see  their  misery  before  they  come  into  it.  Though  perhaps  the 
sight  of  it  first,  if  they  loved  that  sight,  might  make  them  fly  whither 
the  righteous  fly  and  are  safe ;  but  because  they  do,  as  I  hinted  before, 
even  shun  the  thoughts  of  guilt  and  terror,  therefore,  when  once  they 
are  rid  of  their  awakenings  about  the  terrors  and  wrath  of  God,  they 
harden  their  hearts  gladly,  and  chuse  such  ways  as  will  harden  them 
more  and  more. 

Chr.  You  are  pretty  near  the  business,  for  the  bottom  of  all  is,  for 
ivant  of  a  change  in  their  mind  and  will.  And  therefore  they  are  but 
like  the  Felon  that  standeth  before  the  Judge;  he  quakes  and  trembles, 
and  seems  to  repent  most  heartily  :  but  the  bottom  of  all  is  the  fear 
of  the  Halter,  not  of  any  detestation  of  the  offence;  as  is  evident, 
because,  let  but  this  man  have  his  liberty,  and  he  will  be  a  Thief,  and 
so  a  Rogue  still;  'Whereas,  if  his  mind  was  changed,  he  would  be 
otherwise. 

Hope.  Now  I  have  shewed  you  the  reasons  of  their  going  back,  do 
you  show  me  the  manner  thereof. 

Chr.   So  I  "will  ^willingly. 

\.  They  draw  off  their  thoughts,  all  that  they  may,  from  the  re- 
membrance of  God,  Death,  and  Judgment  to  come. 

2.  Then  they  cast  off  by  degrees  private  Duties,  as  Closet-Prayer, 
curbing  their  lusts,  watching,  sorrow  for  sin,  and  the  like. 

3.  Then  they  shun  the  company  of  lively  and  warm  Christians. 

4.  After  that,  they  grow  cold  to  publick  Duty,  as  Hearing,  Reading, 
Godly  Conference,  and  the  like. 

5.  Then  they  begin  to  pick  holes,  as  we  say,  in  the  Coats  of  some 
of  the  Godly,  and  that  devilishly;  that  they  may  have  a  seeming 
colour  to  throw  Religion  (for  the  sake  of  some  infirmity  they  have 
spied  in  them)  behind  their  backs. 

6.  Then  they  begin  to  adhere  to,  and  associate  themselves  with 
carnal,  loose,  and  wanton  men. 

7.  Then  they  give  way  to  carnal  and  wanton  discourses  in  secret ; 


i^ 


%. 


2. 


vCr-7 


}^( 


"5* 


^Gj 


<rl 


ee> 


\^i 


VD 


'(^ 


fe*^ 


c^ 


and  glad  are  they  if  they  can  see  such  things  in  any  that  are  counted 
honest,  that  they  may  the  more  boldly  do  it  through  their  example. 

8.  After  this,  they  begin  to  play  with  little  sins  openly. 

9.  And  then,  being  hardened,  they  shew  themselves  as  they  are. 
Thus  being  launched  again  into  the  gulf  of  misery,  unless  a  Miracle 
of  Grace  prevent  it,  they  everlastingly  perish  in  their  own  deceivings. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  by  this  time  the  Pilgrims  were  got 
over  the  Inchanted  Ground,  and  entering  in  the  Country  of  Beulah, 
whose  Air  was  very  sweet  and  pleasant,  the  way  lying  directly 
through  it,  they  solaced  themselves  there  for  a  season.  Yea,  here 
they  heard  continually  the  singing  of  Birds,  and  saw  every  day  the 
flowers  appear  in  the  earth,  and  heard  the  voice  of  the  Turtle  in  the 
Land.  In  this  Country  the  Sun  shineth  night  and  day;  wherefore 
this  was  beyond  the  Valley  of  the  Shadoiv  of  Death,  and  also  out  of 
the  reach  of  Giant  Despair;  neither  could  they  from  this  place  so 
much  as  see  Doubting-Castle.  Here  they  were  within  sight  of  the 
City  they  were  going  to :  also  here  met  them  some  of  the  Inhabitants 
thereof;  for  in  this 
Land  the  shining 
Ones  commonly 
walked,  because  it 
was  upon  the  Bor- 
ders of  Heaven.  In 
this  Land  also  the 
contract  between 
the  Bride  and  the 
Bridegroom  was  re- 
newed; Yea  here, 
as  the  Bridegroom 
rejoyceth  over  the 
Bride,  so  did  their 
God  rejoyce  over 
them.  Here  they 
had  no  want  of 
Corn  and  Wine ; 
for  in  this  place  they         .,    ^  ,  ,      , 

,  ,  ,  Also  here  met  them  some  of  the  Inhabitants  thereof ;  for  in  this 

met       With       abun-  Land  the  shining  Ones  commonly  walked. 

171 


1 


UV:;-'.';, 


dance  of  what  they  had  sought  for  in  all  their  Pilgrimage.  Here  they 
heard  voices  from  out  of  the  City,  loud  voices  saying,  Say  ye  to  the 
daughter  of  Zion,  Behold  thy  Salvation  cometh,  behold,  his  re'ward  is 
ivith  him.  Here  all  the  Inhabitants  of  the  Country  called  them.  The 
holy  People,  The  redeemed  of  the  Lord,  Sought  out,  etc. 

Now  as  they  walked  in  this  Land,  they  had  more  rejoicing  than  in 
parts  more  remote  from  the  Kingdom  to  which  they  were  bound;  and 
drawing  near  to  the  City,  they  had  yet  a  more  perfect  view  thereof. 
It  was  builded  of  Pearls  and  precious  Stones,  also  the  Street  thereof 
was  paved  with  Gold,  so  that  by  reason  of  the  natural  glory  of  the 
City,  and  the  reflection  of  the  Sun-beams  upon  it.  Christian,  with 
desire  fell  sick,  Hopeful  also  had  a  fit  or  two  of  the  same  Disease. 
Wherefore  here  they  lay  by  it  a  while,  crying  out  because  of  their 
pangs.  If  you  see  my  Beloved,  tell  him  that  I  am  sick  of  lo'be. 

But  being  a  little  strengthened,  and  better  able  to  bear  their  sickness, 
they  walked  on  their  way,  and  came  yet  nearer  and  nearer,  where 
were  Orchards,  Vineyards  and  Gardens,  and  their  Gates  opened  into 
the  High-way.  Now  as  they  came  up  to  these  places,  behold  the 
Gardener  stood  in  the  way;  to  whom  the  Pilgrims  said.  Whose 
goodly  Vineyards  and  Gardens  are  these  ?  He  answered.  They  are 
the  King's,  and  are  planted  here  for  his  own  delights,  and  also  for  the 
Solace  of  Pilgrims.  So  the  Gardener  had  them  into  the  Vineyards, 
and  bid  them  refresh  themselves  with  Dainties.  He  also  shewed  them 
there  the  King's  walks,  and  the  Arbors  where  he  delighted  to  be. 
-And  here  they  tarried  and  slept. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  Dream,  that  they  talked  more  in  their  sleep  at 
this  time,  than  ever  they  did  in  all  their  Journey ;  and  being  in  a  muse 
thereabout,  the  Gardener  said  even  to  me  Wherefore  musest  thou  at 
the  matter  ?  It  is  the  nature  of  the  fruit  of  the  Grapes  of  these  Vine- 
yards to  go  down  so  sweetly,  as  to  cause  the  lips  of  them  that  are 
asleep  to  speak. 

So  I  saw  that  when  they  awoke,  they  addressed  themselves  to  go 
up  to  the  City.  But,  as  I  said,  the  reflections  of  the  Sun  upon  the  City 
(for  the  City  was  pure  Gold)  was  so  extremely  glorious,  that  they  could 
not,  as  yet,  with  open  face  behold  it,  but  through  an  Instrument  made  for 
that  purpose.  So  I  saw,  that  as  they  went  on,  there  met  them  two  men, 
in  Raiment  that  shone  like  Gold,  also  their  faces  shone  as  the  light. 


172 


3" 


V 


Q 


99 
O 

3" 


ii 


These  men  asked  the  Pilgrims  whence  they  came  ?  and  they  told 
them ;  they  also  asked  them.  Where  they  had  lodg'd,  what  difficulties, 
and  dangers,  what  comforts  and  pleasures  they  had  met  in  the  way  ? 
and  they  told  them.  Then  said  the  men  that  met  them,  You  have 
but  two  difficulties  more  to  meet  with,  and  then  you  are  in  the  City. 

Christian  then  and  his  Companion  asked  the  men  to  go  along  with 
them,  so  they  told  them  they  would ;  but,  said  they,  you  must  obtain 
it  by  your  own  faith.  So  I  saw  in  my  Dream  that  they  went  on 
together  till  they  came  in  sight  of  the  Gate. 

Now  I  further  saw  that  betwixt  them  and  the  Gate  was  a  River, 
but  there  was  no  Bridge  to  go  over,  the  River  was  very  deep.  At  the 
sight  therefore  of  this  River,  the  Pilgrims  were  much  stounded ;  but 
the  men  that  went  with  them,  said.  You  must  go  through,  or  you 
cannot  come  at  the  Gate. 

The  Pilgrims  then  began  to  enquire  if  there  was  no  other  way  to 
the  Gate ;  to  which  they  answered.  Yes,  but  there  hath  not  any,  save 
two,  to  wit,  Enoch  and  Elijah,  been  permitted  to  tread  that  path,  since 


174 


*^'^'  "■  nriK 


{ 


v'iSS 


^  • 


the  foundation  of  the  World,  nor  shall,  until  the  last  Trumpet  shall 
sound.  The  Pilgrims,  then,  especially  Christian,  began  to  dispond  in 
his  mind,  and  looked  this  way  and  that,  but  no  way  could  be  found 
by  them,  by  which  they  might  escape  the  River.  Then  they  asked 
the  men,  if  the  Waters  were  all  of  a  depth?  They  said.  No;  yet 
they  could  not  help  them  in  that  Case,  for  said  they :  You  shall  find  it 
deeper  or  shalloiuer,  as  you  believe  in  the  King  of  the  place. 

They  then  addressed  themselves  to  the  Water ;  and  entring.  Chris- 
tian began  to  sink,  and  crying  out  to  his  good  friend  Hopeful  he  said, 
I  sink  in  deep  Waters,  the  Billows  go  over  my  head,  all  his  Waves 
go  over  me,  Selah, 

Then  said  the  other.  Be  of  good  cheer,  my  Brother,  I  feel  the  bot- 
tom, and  it  is  good.  Then  said  Christian,  Ah  my  friend,  the  sorrows 
of  death  have  compassed  me  about,  I  shall  not  see  the  Land  that  flows 
with  Milk  and  Honey.  And  with  that,  a  great  darkness  and  horror 
fell  upon  Christian,  so  that  he  could  not  see  before  him ;  also  here  he 
in  great  measure  lost  his  senses,  so  that  he  could  neither  remember 
nor  orderly  talk  of  any  of  those  sweet  refreshments  that  he  had  met 
with  in  the  way  of  his  Pilgrimage.  But  all  the  words  that  he  spake 
still  tended  to  discover  that  he  had  horror  of  mind,  and  hearty  fears 
that  he  should  die  in  that  River,  and  never  obtain  entrance  in  at  the 
Gate :  here  also,  as  they  that  stood  by  perceived,  he  was  much  in  the 
troublesome  thoughts  of  the  sins  that  he  had  committed,  both  since  and 
before  he  began  to  be  a  Pilgrim.  'Twas  also  observed,  that  he  was 
troubled  with  apparitions  of  Hobgoblins  and  Evil  Spirits.  For  ever  and 
anon  he  would  intimate  so  much  by  words.  Hopeful  therefore  here 
had  much  ado  to  keep  his  Brother's  head  above  water,  yea  sometimes 
he  would  be  quite  gone  down,  and  then  ere  a  while  he  would  rise  up 
again  half  dead.  Hopeful  also  would  endeavour  to  comfort  him,  say- 
ing. Brother,  I  see  the  Gate,  and  men  standing  by  it  to  receive  us.  But 
Christian  would  answer :  'Tis  you,  'tis  you  they  wait  for,  you  have 
been  Hopeful  ever  since  I  knew  you.  And  so  have  you,  said  he 
to  Christian.  Ah  Brother,  said  he,  surely  if  I  was  right,  he  would 
now  arise  to  help  me ;  but  for  my  sins  he  hath  brought  me  into  the 
snare,  and  hath  left  me.  Then  said  Hopeful,  My  Brother,  you  have 
quite  forgot  the  Text,  where  it's  said  of  the  wicked.  There  is  no  band 
in  their  death,  but  their  strength  is  firm  :  they  are  not  troubled  as  other 


175 


men,  neither  are  they  plagued  like  other  men.  These  troubles  and  dis- 
tresses that  you  go  through  in  these  Waters,  are  no  sign  that  God 
hath  forsaken  you,  but  are  sent  to  try  you,  whether  you  will  call 
to  mind  that  which  heretofore  you  have  received  of  his  goodness,  and 
live  upon  him  in  your  distresses. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  Christian  was  in  a  muse  a  while ;  to 
whom  also  Hopeful  added  this  word.  Be  of  good  cheer,  Jesus  Christ 
maketh  thee  luhole:  And  with  that.  Christian  brake  out  with  a  loud 
voice.  Oh,  I  see  him  again !  and  he  tells  me.   When   thou  passest 
through  the  waters,  Itbill  be  'ti>ith  thee,  and  through  the  Rivers,  they 
shall  not  overflow  thee.      Then  they  both  took   courage,   and   the 
enemy  was  after  that  as  still  as  a  stone,  until  they  were  gone  over. 
Christian  therefore  presently  found  ground  to  stand  upon ;  and  so  it 
followed  that  the  rest  of  the  River  was  but  shallow.     Thus  they  got 
over.     Now  upon  the  bank  of  the  River,  on  the  other  side,  they  saw 
the  two  shining  men  again,  who  there  waited  for  them.     Wherefore 
being  come  up  out  of  the  River,  they  saluted  them  saying,   We  are 
ministring  Spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  for  those  that  shall  be  Heirs 
of  Salvation.     Thus  they  went  along  towards  the  Gate.    Now  you 
must  note  that  the  City  stood  upon  a  mighty  hill,  but  the  Pilgrims  went 
up  that  hill  with  ease,  because  they  had  these  two  men  to  lead  them 
up  by  the  Arms ;  also  they  had  left  their  Mortal  Garments  behind  them 
in  the  River ;  for  though  they  went  in  with  them,  they  came  out  with- 
out them.    They  therefore  went  up  here  with  much  agility  and  speed, 
though  the  foundation  upon  which  the  City  was  framed  was  higher 
than  the  Clouds.     They  therefore  went  up  through  the  regions  of  the 
Air,  sweetly  talking  as  they  went,  being  comforted,  because  they  safely 
got  over  the  River,  and  had  such  glorious  Companions  to  attend  them. 
The  talk  they  had  with  the  shining  Ones,  was  about  the  Glory  of 
the  place,  who  told  them,  that  the  beauty,  and  glory  of  it  was  inex- 
pressible.    There,  said  they,  is  the  Mount  Sion,  the  Wzaytnly  Jerusa- 
lem, the  innumerable  company  of  Angels,  and  the  Spirits  of  Just  men 
made  perfect.     You  are  going  now,  said  they,  to  the  Paradise  of  God, 
wherein  you  shall  see  the  Tree  of  Life,  and  eat  of  the  never-fading 
fruits  thereof :  and  when  you  come  there  you  shall  have  white  Robes 
given  you,  and  your  walk  and  talk  shall  be  every  day  with  the  King, 
even  all  the  days  of  Eternity.     There  you  shall  not  see  again  such 


m:y^. 


w  ^ 


-^■RS 


23 


things  as  you  saw  when  you  were  in  the  lower  Region  upon  the 
Earth,  to  wit,  sorrow,  sickness,  affliction,  and  death,  for  the  former 
things  are  passed  aivay.  You  are  going  now  to  Abraham,  to  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  and  to  the  Prophets ;  men  that  God  hath  taken  away  from 
the  evil  to  come,  and  that  are  now  resting  upon  their  Beds,  each  one 
walking  in  his  righteousness.  The  men  then  asked,  What  must  we 
do  in  the  holy  place  ?  To  whom  it  was  answered.  You  must  there 
receive  the  comfort  of  all  your  toil,  and  have  joy  for  all  your  sorrow ; 
you  must  reap  what  you  have  sown,  even  the  fruit  of  all  your  Prayers 
and  Tears,  and  sufferings  for  the  King  by  the  way.  In  that  place 
you  must  wear  Crowns  of  Gold,  and  enjoy  the  perpetual  sight  and 
Visions  of  the  Holy  One,  for  there  you  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  .  There 
also  you  shall  serve  him  continually  with  praise,  with  shouting  and 
thanksgiving,  whom  you  desired  to  serve  in  the  World,  though  with 
much  difficulty,  because  of  the  infirmity  of  your  flesh.  There  your 
eyes  shall  be  delighted  with  seeing,  and  your  ears  with  hearing 
the  pleasant  voice  of  the  mighty  One.  There  you  shall  enjoy 
your  friends  again,  that  are  got  thither  before  you ;  and  there  you  shall 
with  joy  receive  even  every  one  that  follows  into  the  Holy  Place  after 
you.  There  also  you  shall  be  cloathed  with  Glory  and  Majesty,  and 
put  into  an  equipage  fit  to  ride  out  with  the  King  of  Glory.  When  he 
shall  come  with  sound  of  Trumpet  in  the  Clouds,  as  upon  the  wings 
of  the  wind,  you  shall  come  with  him ;  and  when  he  shall  sit  upon 
the  Throne  of  Judgment,  you  shall  sit  by  him;  yea,  and  when  he  shall 
pass  Sentence  upon  all  the  workers  of  Iniquity,  let  them  be  Angels  or 
Men,  you  also  shall  have  a  voice  in  that  Judgment,  because  they  were 
his  and  your  Enemies.  Also  when  he  shall  again  return  to  the  City, 
you  shall  go  too,  with  sound  of  Trumpet,  and  be  ever  with  him. 

Now  while  they  were  thus  drawing  towards  the  Gate,  behold  a 
company  of  the  Heavenly  Host  came  out  to  meet  them :  to  whom  it 
was  said  by  the  other  two  shining  Ones,  These  are  the  men  that  have 
loved  our  Lord,  when  they  were  in  the  World ;  and  that  have  left  all 
for  his  holy  Name,  and  he  hath  sent  us  to  fetch  them,  and  we  have 
brought  them  thus  far  on  their  desired  Journey ;  that  they  may  go  in 
and  look  their  Redeemer  in  the  face  with  joy.  Then  the  Heavenly 
Host  gave  a  great  shout,  saying.  Blessed  are  they  that  are  called  unto 
the  Marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb : 


178 


m 


^"^<:^^ 


mm 


From  above  looked  over  the  Gate,  Enoch,  Moses,  and  Elijah. 

There  came  out  also  at  this  time  to  meet  them  several  of  the  Kings 
Trumpeters,  cloathed  in  white  and  shining  Raiment,  who  with  melo- 
dious noises  and  loud,  made  even  the  Heavens  to  echo  with  their 
sound.  These  Trumpeters  saluted  Christian  and  his  Fellow  with  ten 
thousand  welcomes  from  the  world :  and  this  they  did  with  shouting, 
and  sound  of  Trumpet. 

This  done,  they  compassed  them  round  on  every  side;  some  went 
before,  some  behind,  and  some  on  the  right  hand,  some  on  the  left  (as 
'twere  to  guard  them  through  the  upper  Regions)  continually  sounding 
as  they  went,  with  melodious  noise,  in  notes  on  high ;  so  that  the  very 
sight  was  to  them  that  could  behold  it,  as  if  Heaven  it  self  was  come 
down  to  meet  them.  Thus  therefore  they  walked  on  together,  and 
as  they  walked,  ever  and  anon,  these  Trumpeters,  even  with  joyful 
sound,  would,  by  mixing  their  Musick  with  looks  and  gestures,  still 
signify  to  Christian  and  his  Brother,  how  welcome  they  were  into 
their  company,  and  with  what  gladness  they  came  to  meet  them. 
And  now  were  these  two  men,  as  'twere,  in  Heaven,  before  they  came 
at  it ;  being  swallowed  up  with  the  sight  of  Angels,  and  with  hearing 
of  their  melodious  notes.  Here  also  they  had  the  City  itself  in  view, 
and  they  thought  they  heard  all  the  Bells  therein  to  ring,  to  welcome 
them  thereto :  but  above  all,  the  warm,  and  joyful  thoughts  that  they 
had  about  their  own  dwelling  there,  with  such  company,  and  that  for 
ever  and  ever.  Oh !  by  what  tongue  or  pen  can  their  glorious  joy  be 
expressed  ?    And  thus  they  came  up  to  the  Gate. 

Now  when  they  were  come  up  to  the  Gate,  there  was  written  over 

179 


'/'..•:'■■•' 


/ 


it,  in  Letters  of  Gold,  Blessed  are  they  that  do  his  commandments,  that 
they  may  have  right  to  the  Tree  of  life  ;  and  may  enter  in  through  the 
Gates  into  the  City. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  the  shining  men  bid  them  call  at  the 
Gate;  the  which  when  they  did,  some  from  above  looked  over  the 
Gate,  to  wit,  Enoch,  cMoses,  and  Elijah,  etc.  to  whom  it  was  said, 
These  Pilgrims  are  come  from  the  City  of  Destruction,  for  the  love 
that  they  bear  to  the  King  of  this  place :  and  then  the  Pilgrims  gave  in 
unto  them  each  man  his  Certificate,  which  they  had  received  in  the 
beginning.  Those  therefore  were  carried  in  to  the  King,  who  when  he 
had  read  them,  said.  Where  are  the  men  ?  To  whom  it  was  answered. 
They  are  standing  without  the  Gate,  the  King  then  commanded 
to  open  the  Gate,  That  the  righteous  Nation,  said  he,  that  keepeth 
truth  may  enter  in. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  these  two  men  went  in  at  the  Gate ; 
and  lo,  as  they  entered,  they  were  transfigured,  and  they  had  Ra- 
ment  put  on  that  shone  like  Gold.  There  was  also  that  met  them 
with  Harps  and  Crowns,  and  gave  them  to  them ;  the  Harp  to  praise 
withal,  and  the  Crowns  in  token  of  honor.  Then  I  heard  in  my 
Dream  that  all  the  Bells  in  the  City  Rang  again  for  joy,  and  that  it 
was  said  unto  them,  Enter  ye  into  the  joy  of  your  Lord.  I  also  heard 
the  men  themselves,  that  they  sang  with  a  loud  voice,  saying.  Bless- 
ing, Honour,  Glory,  and  Poiver,  be  to  him  that  sitteth  upon  the 
Throne,  and  to  the  Lamb  for  e^er  and  ever. 

"Hoi^  just  as  the  Gates  were  opened  to  let  in  the  men,  I  looked  in 
after  them ;  and  behold,  the  City  shone  like  the  Sun,  the  Streets  also 
were  paved  with  Gold,  and  in  them  walked  many  men,  with  Crowns 
on  their  heads.  Palms  in  their  hands,  and  golden  Harps  to  sing  praises 
withal. 

There  were  also  of  them  that  had  wings,  and  they  answered  one 
another  without  intermission,  saying.  Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  is  the  Lord. 
And  after  that,  they  shut  up  the  Gates :  which  when  I  had  seen, 
I  wished  myself  among  them. 

Now  while  I  was  gazing  upon  all  these  things,  I  turned  my  head  to 
look  back,  and  saw  Ignorance  come  up  to  the  River  side ;  but  he  soon 


180 


The  Kingf  then  commanded  to  open  the  Gate. 


Vain-hope  a  Ferryman, 

got  over,  and  that  without  half  that  difficulty  which  the  other  two  men 
met  with.  For  it  happened  that  there  was  then  in  that  place  one  Vain- 
hope  a  Ferry-man,  that  with  his  Boat  helped  him  over :  so  he,  as  the 
other  I  saw,  did  ascend  the  Hill  to  come  up  to  the  Gate,  only  he  came 
alone;  neither  did  any  man  meet  him  with  the  least  encouragement. 
When  he  was  come  up  to  the  Gate,  he  looked  up  to  the  writing  that 
was  above ;  and  then  began  to  knock,  supposing  that  entrance  should 
have  been  quickly  administered  to  him.  But  he  was  asked  Ly  the 
men  that  lookt  over  the  top  of  the  Gate,  Whence  came  you  ?  and  what 
would  you  have  ?  He  answered,  I  have  eat  and  drank  in  the  presence 
of  the  King,  and  he  has  taught  in  our  Streets.  Then  they  asked  him 
for  his  Certificate,  that  they  might  go  in  and  shew  it  to  the  King.  So 
he  fumbled  in  his  bosom  for  one,  and  found  none.  Then  said  they. 
Have  you  none?  But  the  man  answered  never  a  word.  So  they 
told  the  King,  but  he  would  not  come  down  to  see  him,  but  com- 
manded the  two  shining  Ones  that  conducted  Christian  and  Hopeful 
to  the  City,  to  go  out  and  take  Ignorance  and  bind  him  hand  and  foot, 
and  have  him  away.     Then   they  took  him  up,  and   carried   him 

182 


n'«'I 


/;> 


The  Conclusion. 

Noiv  Reader,  I  have  told  my  Dream  to  thee  ; 
See  if  thou  canst  Interpret  it  to  me; 
Or  to  thyself,  or  Neighbor :  but  take  heed 
Of  mis-interpreting  ;  for  that,  instead 
Of  doing  good,  ivill  but  thyself  abuse  : 
By  mis-interpreting  efbil  insues. 

Take  heed  also,  that  thou  be  not  exfream. 
In  playing  ivith  the  out-side  of  my  Dream : 
Nor  let  my  figure,  or  similitude. 
Put  thee  into  a  laughter  or  a  feud ; 
Leave  this  for  Boys  and  Fools ;  but  as  for  thee 
Do  thou  the  substance  of  my  matter  see. 

Put  by  the  Curtains,  look  ivithin  my  Vail; 
Turn  up  my  Metaphors  and  do  not  fail 
There,  if  thou  seekest  them,  such  things  to  find. 
As  Tbill  be  helpful  to  an  honest  mind. 

What  of  my  dross  thou  findest  there,  be  bold 
To  throiv  al^ay,  but  yet  preserve  the  Gold. 
What  if  my  Gold  be  ivrapped  up  in  Ore  ? 
None  throivs  aivay  the  Apple  for  the  Core. 
But  if  thou  shalt  cast  all  away  as  vain, 
I  know  not  but  'twill  make  me  dream  again. 

THE  END. 


184 


PrincFlon  Theological  Seminaty-Spper  Library 


1    1012  0 


117  9456 


DATE   DUE 


PRINTED  IN  U.S.A. 


